Enough
Read my son could grow.
With in his soul a hole.
God knows what holed and sunk in me.
Or where's my girl, are we still three?
Sometimes. I fear. We're lost. At sea.
Oh God. Oh please. Just let it be.
Copyright © John Holloway | Year Posted 2007
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment