Always think of what you have to do as easy and it will become so. - Anonymous

the poem tree

3 nominations

the words are few and fleeting they hide outside my door my poet's mind retreating a hollow empty roar i turn to quiet nights and share old words with the dead these lost and passing spirits whisper kindness in my head the sleep it comes sporatic the Sun no longer beams to light my inner sanctum's eye to capture poetic dreams i yield to blank submission the flickering screen and stare i feel no sense of mission the poem tree is bare

© Deckard


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