Poetry for me is a way of living, it comes out of nowhere and I have to write it down. How I write, what I write, I decide. I am not asking you to be judgemental. I am gifted with the ability to see beyond the obvious.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
if only he could see behind
the wall was built long ago he sat in front of it tried to look sad he missed sounds, shadows his muted form saw it slipping through fingers- willed it to stop