The Past Is Dead
Too many, too long,
We aim our thoughts
To a place we do not belong
Trying connect distant dots.
The dead no longer are,
No longer can be.
Thus they lie a bit too far
Across blue waves; too far to see.
Time's hands have stopped.
You should turn your head
To the door once open, now locked.
The living have now become the dead.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
