Poems and Poetry

Windfall | A Poem by Guy Farmer

I used to let everyone
Else’s voice supersede mine —
Lent more credence to
What they said than
Anything I might have
Been thinking — and it
Paid off in an overwhelming
Windfall of misery and
Inauthenticity, having left
The real me languishing by
The wayside while I plodded
Ahead wearing someone else’s
Persona and venturing further
Away from the real me,
An indistinct whisper in
A cacophonous gale,
Alone and unindividuated.


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