Sifting through daily activities, searching for clues to an <br />innate identity does not satisfy any inner yearnings. <br /> <br />Quietly forbidding, the essence of creativity lies waiting <br />in darkness. <br /> <br />Shells of innocent partaking, unfold silently from beneath <br />folds of life, uncompromisingly tepid, on wings of wax, <br />stepping lightly forward, always looking back. <br /> <br />Sandwiched are thoughts of yesterday, between insurmountable <br />barriers rarely ever seen, scaling the very edges of life, mountainous depths are keenly felt within. <br /> <br />Scattered alternately are breaking of ancient rules, falling <br />through vent shafts of cruelty, solidly breaking walls of <br />humility are the wrecking balls of life. <br /> <br />Countered unhesitatingly throughout many years, life-long <br />ambitions are only puddles of tears filling the gaps of <br />loneliness, rinsing clear, the small identity of someone dear.<br /><br />RoseAnn V. Shawiak<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gap-of-loneliness/
