Ever heard of the poetry-form "Sestina"? A sestina consists of thirty-nine lines — six stanzas of six lines each with a three-line concluding stanza.
The feature that distinguishes the sestina is that the words which end the lines in the first stanza are repeated as the end words for the second stanza and so on in a fixed pattern until you have written six stanzas. The same six words appear in the concluding three line stanza — two in each line. I find it a very beautiful form of poetry and this one below is written in the same format.
This is where i was born
Where I was raised
And yet, today I cannot find myself
Part of this world
There is a curtain drawn
Between this life and me.
Is this me, or was that me?
The place where my beliefs were born
I look for someone called myself
Within these walls where I was drawn
The house is dark and so is my world
I wait for the curtains to be raised.
And as these curtains are raised
I look into the mirror and a broken me
I squint to recognize myself
The specs of dust in my world
This is where my smiles were born
Love and I together drawn.
A notebook with a picture drawn
Flaps around to be raised
Into my hands-it was drawn by me
Some hills, a river, a morning sun born
Faded colors, but a living world
Where I cannot see myself.
As I hunt for myself
I see the window, the pane half raised
When I left, were the shutters drawn?
Tomorrow, this will light the world
The window that shows the night to me
Does it tell me how hope is born?
And now that hope is born
I walk the dark garden by myself
Dried flowers on their beds raised
With bent heads they lay beside me
Over my head this rock is drawn
Hiding me from the living world.
As the night deepens and stars are drawn
From my dead tomb my soul is raised
My soul lives on where I was born.
