stories I grew with stories I did not write But he was always different…. I envied him at the core yet feared him in daylight mermaids in his fish tank came alive at midnight How I wanted - to be there, but something stopped me from indulging in voyeuristic delights
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I’m sure you shouldn’t keep mermaids in a fish-tank! Stay away, Reena!
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😀😀
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Mermaids in a fish tank! Now there’s a magical thought. I love it!
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Thank you, Beverly! I guess it was the size of a bath tub.
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I love this… the mystery of mermaids in a fish tank makes me think of the man in the poem as a little bit menacing actually.
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If the mermaids exist, yes…. He should have a separate bathtub for each 😀
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I love those first lines, differentiating “stories I grew with”
from “stories I did not write.” We all have so many different kinds of stories in us, that shape us.
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Thanks a lot! Our psyche is actually made of stories.
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This reads so fluidly
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Thanks for the appreciation!
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Very nicely done! The lore within when guided by wisdom learned keeps us on track. You poem says it very well.
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Thank you so much, Dwight!
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You are welcome!
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