Lost in VanGogh

In shallow pools of reflected thought a child's face sad and transparent floats above a wheatfield thick in bright yellow amidst a flock of still crow a shadow dressed in tattered pants and a paint-stained shirt brings a smile of recognition to this lost child then fades with a sudden gust of wind the crow take flight the wheat sways into consciousness our hearts are numb with the beauty of his pain

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...

More about me