Fighting Me


I’m just fine
I’m just great
I have everything
A love, a home, a dog, a cat.
A job, a friend or two or three.
So why do I wish to punch a wall
Inflict pain upon the
inanimate.
Melancholy, anger, anxiety, and loathing
climb over me amidst
my calm.
Consuming in the oddest moments
of my day.
And Nothing can reach me
not even me.
For that Me is hidden high on a mountain
far, far away from my shadow
which walks in the light
with everyone else
occasionally staring up
wondering when I will come down.
But the Me up there knows
no one really what’s to see.
Not really.
Everyone else has blinded
themselves,
so how could they ever truly
see Me.

by Philip Wardlow 2018
(character study in poem form for a Book I’m writing)

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