in the end
The
Painful
Agonizing
Illusion
Nothing
is to much to
Hurt
Ostrisize
Laugh
Demean
But i guess i brought it on myself in the
Empty
Nothing
Dead
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.
djlong’s Poems (11)
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| this too shall pass | 0 | 05/22/2012 |
| in the end | 0 | 04/09/2012 |
| ~Unrecognizab le~ |
0 | 04/09/2012 |
| controlled? | 0 | 02/22/2012 |
| listen | 2 | 01/23/2012 |
| baking | 0 | 01/22/2012 |
| with her | 0 | 01/15/2012 |
| Down | 2 | 01/07/2012 |
| Lost | 1 | 01/07/2012 |
| Love Disguised | 2 | 01/07/2012 |
| She Is Gold | 1 | 01/07/2012 |
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