Secret
Oh what a catastrophe it is
to live like this: to not exist.
When life seems as a giant sieve
sorting blindly all we give,
seeping slowly,
taking bids
and sifting
pain,
you must remember,
from pleasure.
Want to know how to achieve bliss?
The wonder's in
the
end-
less-
ness
.
.
.
Copyright © Jennifer D'Andrea | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment