Here No More

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Here No More

Bright laughter seems so far away;
It's right outside my room.
I cannot keep my fears at bay,
in darkness and in gloom.

The blackened road is hard and cold
and wet beneath my feet.
As I run I try to hold
the steady, pounding beat.

A puddle glistens on the street,
and as I see it shine,
I take a glimpse inside concrete,
and see all that is mine.

My heart is gone, and so is day
As we close the door.
I know that I can surely say,
Normal lives here no more...


Dedicated to Gramma Bette Rohweller 1927-2007

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Tray4 commented on Here No More

02-22-2009

speechless

Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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