Authentic

Lost and found in this world
This is what I got
This is what I became
Some strange and unique mesh
Of heart, spirit and mind
Of history, company, upbringing and luck
How could I ever pretend
That I am someone else?
How could I ever hide
Behind some curtain to fit in?
For better or worse
I now am who I am
The one who that child became
The seed of the one I will become

Marcus Antoninus

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Hidden

Fragile and ephemeral.
To those unaware eyes.
Crazy flickering lamps,
trembling in the wind.
But appearances are superficial!
See! on the inside there is a mountain,
and within the mountain a deep lake.
Genuine and unique,
self-reliant and authentic.
Behind the veil of softness,
there is an iron will,
a soul committed to the truth
and a spirit no one can defeat.

Marcus Antoninus

Hermit heart

For as long as I remember
I have been a path-seeking,
out-of-place and often weird,
hermit-like introvert.
Forced to socialize by convention,
but by nature drawn to contemplation,
I enjoyed the charms of conversation,
but mostly thrived in thought and reflection.
Only after half a life of maturation
did I find at last a balance
between duty to my fellows
and that innermost need
for silence and solitude.

Marcus Antoninus

Midlife

Living in the world
and not getting stained by its ways.
Keeping my heart generous and warm
amidst shallowness and indifference.
Providing and caring
without wearing my spirit out.
Being close and present
despite distance and meaning.

Overwhelmed by the complexity
of the life I created,
With no possible way back
and no obvious way forward,
Years passing ever faster
oblivious to struggles and joys.
Writing these poems keeps me warm
hopeful, sane and alive.

Marcus Antoninus