ultimate gesture

Iclick the wasteland on again stumble out of bed again I need the comfort of the flickering lights against a dark wall and the sound it makes there's not enough despair in here to be where I must be a king has died of pain overdose the storyflashesfrom the screen bounces off the hallway mirror and into my coffee I sip without noticing a change try to write of brokenhopes and mended dreams but the words are futile weak I seek the moon for vital signs but a faceless cloud of shapeless form holds nothing to inspire thereare facesof thousands who offer their lives but for a taste of freedom their screams float silently out of reach come to rest in a candy dish do I ponder the ultimate poetic gesture suffer no more these sleepless nights perhaps I will sleep on such thoughts

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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