Fallen

0 Comments

Tags:
  • Art

    Fallen

    I build with my hands thoughts that aren't mine.

    You who design these monuments, please come here.

    These whom you judge are put at your risk.

    Those hands are which tools of another's the mind.

    Whomever becomes will be brother or sister of mine.

    Towers have fallen through thoughts of the mind.

    Poem Comments

    (0)

    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    chadallac74’s Poems (46)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Take Your Soul 0
    The Passing 2
    California 1
    Zoom 0
    On a Napkin... I write... 4
    On Paper 1
    In My Head 0
    Suicide 2
    This Journey 4
    Parallels 10
    16 Hours 9
    To... 2
    Real Eyes 2
    Super Far... 2
    Homeless 2
    On My Way 0
    ...This... That. 2
    Find It Today 1
    When I Get There 2
    Middle Of It... 1
    Madness I 1
    I Don't Need To Pay 7
    Anxiety 3
    Like It Is 0
    What If 4
    Turn That Stone 6
    Shiny Gold 1
    Leather Feet On The Walking Floor 0
    Rabies 2
    Broken Bottle 0
    What It's Worth 2
    Time Stands Still 2
    Sitting Around 4
    A Dream Today A Thought Of The Past 3
    Running Away 0
    Seasons 2
    Listen To Me 3
    Iron Horse 6
    If I Had The World To Give 0
    Numbers To Words 1
    Blew In Through 1
    One Night 1
    Blind Spot of Life 4
    Whiskey Dick's 5
    Fallen 0
    Blues In Too 3