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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required it's not the same anymore this is a haunted place all the living happy and smiling writing a pretty line feeling sublime but....it's a ghostland to me drab drear desolate poets I used to know those on fire dripping passion after a fashion laughter resounding keys getting a pounding poetry driven friendships? A given throbbing...alive Now? Memories survive for slowly they perished not being cherished tired and sore they couldn't take more and they....walked out the door dead to this place they left just a trace their poetic legacy forgotten camaraderie leering at me word ghosts that haunt rhyme echoes that taunt empty places forgotten faces I'm one of the walking dead your words alive in my head So much left unsaid The ghostland? It's here more will leave, I fear the precious, the dear but as for me? I'll remain...complacent and plain feeling the drain emotions slain thoughts on the wane I remain...I stay hitting that replay of your memory ghosts of what used to be your words living, breathing here.... inside of... me. Eileen Manassian *Since this has become POTD and will get exposure, I need to clarify something. This came to me, in part, after reading the news that Jack Ellison is thinking of leaving PS. He's a dear soul. I wrote this because there are several poets whom I miss....poets who are not as active or who have left altogether. This poem is not reflective of PS as I know there are many who are thriving here...AS THE POEM INDICATES. It's just my personal feelings. Thank you for respecting that.
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