Identity (an acrostic poem)

 

It wasn’t who he was

Didn’t they know that?

Everyone should see it.  He wasn’t that complicated

Now if he was, well maybe she wouldn’t have left him

That still hurt twenty some odd years later

If time does heal, he must be a man outside of time

That made him chuckle

You would think with a name like Gilgamesh he would know better

 

Image: upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/c5/H%C3%A9rosma%C3%AEtrisantunlion.jpg/170px-H%C3%A9rosma%C3%AEtrisantunlion.jpg

Cyborg (an acrostic poem)

Computer chips and meat meshed together was now his identity

You would think he would feel superior

But he felt definitely less than human

Of course, now he could now bench press a bus

Reality was he was a ghost in his own machine

Giving him a haunted look in his remaining eye

 

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