I wrote the following piece of poetry two years ago and I have resurrected it here and tidied it up for a blog piece. I had it reviewed by an anonymous friend.
AUTHENTIC
by John Yeo
What does it mean to call something authentic?
If the sense of identification proves it’s real,
Can one prove the authenticity of it, unseen?
I suddenly woke this morning from a realistic dream,
The power of the images was unbelievably surreal.
What does it mean to call something authentic?
I pinched myself when things were not what they seemed,
An alternative reality that would be difficult to conceal.
Can one prove the authenticity of life, unseen?
A parallel experience that seemed alien to my lifestream,
Both lives were familiar as part of life’s spinning wheel.
What does it mean to call something authentic?
If I lived permanently ensconced in the life of my dream,
Reality as I know it would be a world that’s unreal.
Can one prove the authenticity of a life, unseen?
Would a schizophrenic personality somehow glean
Peace of mind with a new turn of the balance wheel?
What does it mean to call a life authentic?
Can one prove the authenticity of it, unseen?
Written by John Yeo ©️ all rights reserved
The style of this poem is free verse. It is a poem that does not follow any specific rhyme scheme or meter. The poem is written in the first person and explores the meaning of authenticity. The speaker of the poem asks a series of questions about what it means to be authentic, and whether or not it is possible to prove the authenticity of something. The poem ends with the speaker still asking these questions, suggesting that there is no easy answer.