Replying to a comment on:

a days journey (Free verse) by donmiguel1960

The mournful grief I survive, as my being drifts, is unbearable. The morning is the furthermost distance from the serenity that only sleep can bring. As the day wears on, my vigor pours out. My mind becomes befuddled, and my heart wishes for an eternal sleep. Today I’ve awoken weak in spirit, hoping to find relief. My thoughts race through my mind like a flock of birds without direction. Is this a poem, or random thoughts that I now collect in my mind? What is the point of my writing? Groping franticly, for a solemn, peaceful place, to rest the bitter howling winds of my soul. Writing is a sandy oasis, on my journey to the night. The water is bitter sweet. My thoughts, pains, struggles, and breath are that of a confused heart.

nentwined 15-Feb-07/6:52 PM
Gotcha==a typo, only worse.




Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001