My first attempt to reach the masses

The following poem is very dear to me since it is part of s series of other poems that helped me turn a very difficult period in my life into a source of inspiration. Although it may seem a love poem , it deals rather with the feeling of despair at the thought of having lost a very large period of time waiting for someone, whoever that person may be.

Medusa

I let my pencil slip on the sheet of paper

A hundred times.

A river of winding lines

Destroying its intimacy , its identity.

And reordering it in the shape of my heart.

Intricate , full of thorns and tubes like a potato

Abandoned in a cardboard box and never used again.

A hundred times

I scratch deeper and deeper.

But before stopping I realise those winding  lines

Form a handful of hair

I have grown old and bald

Waiting for you.