![]() |
![]() |
#1 (permalink) |
Please touch this.
Owner/Admin
Location: Manhattan
|
nothing
My hand touches nothing
reaching far inside swirling the whistful mist stirring the dust of dried up dreams the frozen air stoney and solid as if to say "you cannot grow, here" without light which my idols had the grass lies not green nor brown but cowering deep in the ground seeds who fear their day will never come
__________________
You have found this post informative. -The Administrator [Don't Feed The Animals] |
![]() |
![]() |
#3 (permalink) |
Banned
Location: central USA
|
thank you Hal... i enjoy your poetry... it touches on my own feelings and often seems like you surely must have been talking about me *soft laugh*... God does that sound narcissistic...
what i am really trying to say is that a good poem... directly touches each person who reads it... as if it was their own... yours definately falls into that category... *warm smile*... thanks for sharing such personal stuff. |
![]() |
|
|