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From Afar
Far away on the soft sands of dreams
You peer out your rainy window
I am the exiled poet
You are the lonely words of sanity
Banners have faded
Revelry replaced with stucco suburbs
The sea is still wild
Prayer stretches our being
Hope a wild fire burning conformity
Convention is the replacement of love
Validation from little groups
The accepted norm rules your heart
Wicked guards of the banal
You refuse to come to me
I cannot act parts that are not me
My road is crude
You want to change me
I feel you
I like a wet bed
You know who you are
You're reading this now
Call me when you get a pedicure
You love me from afar
poem
by
Joseph Narusiewicz
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