Poetic Slave
A poetic
slave
uses
his mind in a verse, of unfamiliar
sound
No one
but his fictitious reader steps in
to understand the will
of
his hand
I can
feel
his poetry, as autumn’s leaves fall
into
the ground
Crackling
in
great silence, yet the city blooms
awesomely; and
everyone smells a future
Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | 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