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Below are poems written by poet Deb Radke. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.

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It Marches On

And even words which once did flow
So freely from this pen,
Desert me now and fail to show
The person I was then.

This jubilee you came to see,
The happy circus folk,
Washed off their paint, packed up the tents;
God plays a twisted joke.

And now I lay alone inside
This wretched room not mine.
No more abide, sweet suicide;
Complete your tender crime.

It marches on without regard;
It stops for not a man.
If I but could this life discard
I would, and start again.


[to my friend James, who defeats the demons with grace and honor]

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  1. Date: 5/19/2012 4:26:00 PM

    deep ink you have here. it draws out emotion! good work.

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