The Bottle

Bottles have always been used; for the most part, for practical purposes by human beings. A bottle also has a mystical side. It has often been considered to be a vessel which contains magic or even your soul. A bottle can be found in stories of fantasy and mystery.

I realized that I had been living in a bottle and had been a prisoner of something that had only existed in my mind. I had spent my entire existence filling up this bottle. Now the bottle is open. The cork is gone. Here is a poem that expresses the imaginary bottle that many of us carry in our mind.


A Bottle

As I was young the burning had already begun.
What do I have inside me?
I could not find fulfillment; no none.

I was so young.
Unknowing, and yet knowing.
I looked to those that were older;
help me, please show me.
But there was no one, no not one.
Then I tried to share what I could feel.

I wished to be loved.

I gave, I loved and I cared so sincerely.
Still, what was wrong?
It seemed the more I gave…
the less I understood.
I need love, compassion;
mostly I wished to be free.
I gave. Oh how I gave;
still there was so much that I could not.

I learned to be careful…
no not careful; I learned to have fear.
Now I keep so much inside.
There is so much that I wished to give;
only now the fear was inside.
It dictates my life.

I moved to an island.
I live on this island… far from others.
There I stayed; counting the days.


Best wishes to everyone

P.S. This is only an excerpt from a much larger poem that I will eventually share in one of my upcoming books.

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