We exist, at times silently,
comfortable in our invisibility.
Unnoticeably so.
Unexplained.
We so know, or learn, when
it is time to speak up.
11/08/2024 j.g.l.
Mondays are just young Fridays
What happens when you step away
from the everyday, for a while
(or longer)?
A new locale, an unfamiliar bed, an
alternative view overhead
there is always another way instead;
at least there will be this week.
Even a wristwatch looks different today
for deadlines have no purpose or place
this week.
A well-deserved break, to say the least.
11/04/2024 j.g.l.
I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
cloud songs
Posted on February 21, 2020 by j.g.lewis
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It is not same. We may use
identical words, but
the meaning differs.
Our experience should be
distinguishable. We all
have a voice. Understand.
If you claim my words
as yours,
you steal my breath.
I will not let go. You will not
lose my meaning, but only
show your true depth.
Have you no courage
to speak for yourself?
02/21/2020 j.g.l.
