Untitled
This is untitled
For a title is a name
And a name gives life
But this? This is dead.
This is unknown
For knowledge will lead to fame
And fame has but a short life.
But this? This was never born.
This is unsung
For to sing is to be heard
And to be heard there must be life
But this? No one lived to hear.
This is nothing
For to be it must think
And to think means to live
But this? This never was.
This is untitled
Unknown, unsung.
A mere wisp of nothing.
For only nothing will ever have
The world of opportunity
Copyright © Ioana Thornburn-Winsor | Year Posted 2012
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