The Wake

A drip upon a tired lake bird sings out at an old man's wake memory reborn for memory's sake rumbles in a dormant soul Sun peeks through a storm strewn sky baby is sung a lullaby heart holds a beat while it says goodbye repent my prodigal son None shall speak of this in lore the end draws near this final war the ripple shall never reach the shore a drip upon a tired lake

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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