Writing With Weeping Words
I am not the poet
Or the painter of lavish scape
For the cold walls that hold me subdued
Have nothing left to say
In silent rooms of candle light
Where shadows dance and crawl
Melt the fading years away
With no where left to fall
Upon my knees of misery
For only a prayer to call
I meet my death in poetic dream
For immortal thoughts have gone
A Broken Wings Contest
10/07/2017
Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2017
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