Who Can I Turn To

Why do we capture moments
from other people’s lives
and why do they repeat themselves
over and over again.
Why do we visualize
what happened to them.
It makes no sense at all,
but it happens to me.
Is it possible I want to be
a part of their life?
I don’t know or is it
I want to feel the hurt
and shame they felt.
Or is it as a writer
I want to use that portion from their life.
It bothers me increasingly
because who can I turn to,
to get the answer that I need?

24 October 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!