Dry
Sometimes my hope
Is covered in cobwebs
All but forgotten
Sometimes the river
Of life that ran through me
Is a path
Of rocks
So dry
So dusty and dry
Sometimes each song
I sing
Or hear
Or think about
Falls flat
On my ears
On my heart
On my vacant heart
Sometimes
diane mann 2012
1 comment:
Very beautifully said. Thank you.
Post a Comment