Today is a day..
Yesterday was what?
Where am I?
Who am I?
Is there a place for me?
Is there a place for me
What does that look you give me mean?
Today the burdens of life weigh heavy and I
feel buried underneath them.
Buried alive by life..I am buried alive by life.
Where is a light, I need a light to follow...
Darkness surrounds me and I feel as though I
could suffocate with the darkness.
I am falling, falling into the dark
the darkness if encompassing me.
I need to reach out, reach out to the light I can find
Is there a light for me or just another lie..
Who knows who can tell...
We know how to camp!
11 years ago
2 comments:
I wrote a poem once and my grandpa beat the s*** out of me. He says artistic expression is for gays and sissies.
Not true. How about all the psalms all the English, Scottish and American Poets how about Poe . Poetry is hard for me, but it is because it reaches into the soul and we don't want out soul exposed. Write from the heart, you won't be sorry. M
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