dusty at a personal bar’s disposal.
Frustated, by once being the world,
having your back and both shoulders.
A true knock out,
the creme dela creme of well rounded excellence,
until your hidden jealousies disruptively showed up,
from your half empty cup.
Your thought’s were,
I’d be consumed by a more reserved someone else,
due to my 100 proof uniqueness and personality’s wealth.
Noticing too late I’d been infinitely placed, on the top shelf.
As I resented, resonated,
stewing in my own juices,
getting aged and refined but without my grandest uses.
More expensive, exquisite options began crossing my mind,
inquiries regarding the top shelf’s content,
came and went all the time.
Wondering quizzically about the dusty label covered,
as I waited mundanely for someone to discover.
I recall in past asking to be placed on a pedestal and lavishly treated as a Queen,
as he playfully? stated,
” If I place you there, then how am I to reach, what’s higher than me”?
Now I laugh inwardly, off a lesson of the past, I should have caught.
As I reflect on instances that led up to being taught.
Feeling like a butterfly in a net,
a bird in a cage,
maybe I can move a little,
with all this pinned up rage.
Not even an inch,
would he move me closer to the front,
like a high school trophy,
that goes missing,
after years to die inside a trunk.
Pop my cork! Let me breathe, allow my ambrosia to fill the nostril’s whiff to succeed.
Kept perfectly hidden, unspoken, out of reach,
disguised by thick dust,
so no one notices me.
I have needs to socially interact..
oh! wait…mmm what a great release! Poured, sipped, and enjoyed right behind his back, after my pleas.
Feeling much better,
now that my seal’s been cracked.
Just a matter of time now, until simply,
I’ll be moved again, until I’m empty.
Poetry By Tamara Dorsey-Moore
Thinker on the Loose- Reblog
THANKS FOR READING & VISITING ❤ 🙂