I am but a vessel of truth.

It is all that I am and all that I know.

My truth may diverge from others,

Yet it is mine and lives within me.


I am but a vessel of hatred.

Dwelling within that basest part of me.

Surreptitiously it hides beneath the surface,

It is denied the right to control me.


I am but a vessel of love.

That better part of who I am.

Shared with those held dear,

But too often displayed sparingly.


I am but a vessel of hope.

Those better things and better days.

These are dreams unfulfilled,

Though desired in the promise of tomorrow.


I am but a vessel of memories.

Cherished days and episodes.

Stored away within my heart,

Recalled with longing and fondness.


A day is destined to arrive,

And it may not be that far away,

When I escape the bonds of life,

To dwell here no longer.


Yet all that is within me remains,

All that makes me who I am,

Will continue to endure,

For all that will be gone is the vessel.

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About John White

I've written off and on my entire life. It took years for me to finally take putting words together seriously. Now it's not, nor does it ever feel, like work. Writing daily has become habitual. No day is complete without words having appeared on the page.

Posted on August 18, 2014, in Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. I love this! Thanks for sharing!

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