Father

The sun bitter cold
Down my cheek is tragedy
My soul sits in pain

Mind in dark shadows
Seeking last light perfect blooms
To make tangible 

Heart drifts with a cloud
Blemishes fade on the wind
He was perfection
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

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Horstkotter Avatar
May 14, 2013 at 8:02 PM
nice poem
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