poem in the attic
in a box in an attic is where it lay dormant in the dark unable to say the words he had written his final day the attic has light now he heard the switch click come to me come to me hurry! be quick I've waited for years for ions to be read then the sound of turning pages danced in his head he awaited the light when he heard paper turning and the smile of a face would have his heart burning closer and closer as the pages were freed then stopped at the title and did not proceed did not proceed but the eyes he could see through the thin journal paper the eyes he could see and the tears ran down cheeks of a child all but 3 Daddy, he said, 'Can you read this for me?' 'Perhaps you can read it some other day when you're old enough to know just what it might say Off now my child, we can't be all night lay down the book and turn off the light' and from that day forward he waited for me the child to return and set the words free Thomas P Owens Sr
Rhyming
Dream work
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Deckard
I began writing poetry when I was a teenager and it truly saved me from a destructive path. 'Time Heals' will be on my grave stone'. I have 3 incredible kids who are the greatest gifts that God has given me. If I have advice to give to aspiring...
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