static

they beckon me they whisper as I sleep touch my shoulder with unseen fingers sending waves of dead static through my soul the after the in-between the remaining energy reaching for some connection to their mortal coil they find solace in my belief a ground for their whispering pulse the remnants of a soul once lived the static that refuses to leave completely

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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