![1449580904600[1]](https://acookingpotandtwistedtales.files.wordpress.com/2015/12/14495809046001.jpg?w=663&h=663)
I can see clearer now the fog is gone.
I can see a lot of silver linings newly borne.
They illuminate brighter than golden urns.
Blurred visions of scattered bones along my way,
Had distorted views to thing’s, I must say,
And had held me dismayed in their sway.
I saw the reflection of split personality,
Of inner difficulties and aspiring destiny,
Casting illusions on introspection of originality.
Many feet scattered in the rubble of times past,
Unbirthed, aborted, buried and dead at last.
I can see clearly now the ghosts are laid to rest.
Broken visions melded and better than the first.
Atop the ladder of scattered dreams and buried bones,
I glimpse the brighter vision reflected and renewed.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
Writing 101 Poetry – Day 2, Reflections
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