Debbie Duncan Poet Quatrain

Wandering Mind

What world have I come to?
What shores have I landed upon?
You know how when you feel things.
That you really don't understand.

And you really don't want to.
But you feel it anyway.
And no one lends a helping hand.
The tides are always turning.

And the leaves are always falling.
Do we swallow our dark secrets?
And never let them go free.
Do we ever recover from that rabbit hole?

We fell into such a long time ago.
Can't we just dance upon the waters?
And not sink to the very bottom. 
Must we always have a safety net?



11/ 11/ 2015  1:30 am   Could not sleep so I wrote my thoughts about not falling to sleep!

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Daniel Turner January 14, 2016 at 7:52 AM Sleeplessness' at times' can make one very creative. Very nice.

Andrea Dietrich December 17, 2015 at 3:35 PM gosh, you get quite profound in your insomniac state!! Great writing!

Duke Beaufort November 17, 2015 at 3:38 AM Your words have taken me to a place I have sometimes visited. There must be someone to turn to when the mysterious feelings arrive. Keeping them bottled up will only work for a short time. Believe me--I know. This is a wonderful poem.

Robert Johnson November 16, 2015 at 9:13 PM The wheels are turning and spinning fast. Churning up bit's of the past. Those shadows that don't dissipate. When we can't sleep and it's so late. :) Love the churning. Peace.

Eileen Manassian November 13, 2015 at 10:42 PM Interesting write, dear. I hope it helped with the insomnia. It's been a while. Hugs

Eric Boddie November 13, 2015 at 10:32 PM what makes a person do drugs....can any of us truly describe the power within a hug....can true happiness be found in a Life without sex....the future is unknown so no one truly knows what's next....very inspiring write Debbie....;)