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The First Time

Writer: Martin PickardMartin Pickard

Shoes -

stiffly embracing, supporting

stumbling steps,

standing tall, but ever more distant

from the earth beneath your feet.


Mirror -

a stranger imprisoned in glass

touching your nose, your cheek,

the sudden realization

“That’s me… but who am I?”


Dream -

improbable truths dance across

impossible landscapes

till you wake with hidden worlds

deep inside your mind.


Lie –

Slipping from your lips in haste

a spider’s thread swiftly spun

gossamer heavy it clung

revealing what truth left undone.


Love -

sudden onset, heart affliction,

addiction to a face, a voice,

a choice made in youthful innocence,

desire discovered, heart exposed.


Every first is a new beginning,

an opening into a hall of mirrors,

reflections of a million opportunities

multiplying with each step you take.


Seek out new firsts, my friends, have fun,

they shape you,

not into something finished

but into someone just begun.

1 Comment


It's like learning to live again in a different world.

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