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Metropolitan Line poetry

Mostly composed on the 07:33 to Finchley Road, then hastily typed up at work. Apart from the ones written surreptitiously in boring meetings or on the way home.

Tuesday, 11 August 2009

In Your Eye

It’s strange, the way that ‘I’
so neatly fits into the object
that defines me: in your eye
I find my stage, my self respect,
my audience, my reason why.
But if you close your eyes, reject
me, my performance starts to die.

Posted by NoName at 14:08

1 comment:

Nithin Purple said...

this is good discription.......check out www.penetratedpoetry.blogspot.com

17 August 2009 at 10:06

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