A Simulacrum of Thought
/Every morning
I rise with the sun
Watching with awe
The soft vibrancy
Of cloud and colour
Each sunrise uniquely its own
Yet so similar
That its subtlety
Is often lost
A simulacrum of thought
Overlayed upon reality
Obscuring the beauty
Of the moment
How much of life
Have I lost
In this way?
This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.
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