Amelia Harmon Poet Free verse

My World

My World,
So carefully constructed,
Is falling to pieces,
Crumbling,
Coming down around me,
And there is nothing I can do,
Nothing I can do to save my treasured world,
And the beautiful peace that it brings,
To a disposable and hectic world,
Soon there will be nothing left,
But ashes and rubble,
Nothing left for me to do,
No way for me to save my world and my peace,
All I can do is hold it together best I can,
And pray to the gods that it will fix itself,
If it even can.

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David Meade February 25, 2015 at 8:25 PM A sad and haunting poem -- and yet I believe there is still hope . . . or at least a chance for peace. Amelia Harmon February 26, 2015 at 2:47 AM There always is, isn't there. That's from three years ago, 2012, but it's a good poem and a good place to start with the community again. It's been way too long.