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Holding
August 8, 2013
Feel the self static that arises, folds, holds, leaves its gone. Look at the sun the kind of warmth only god knows, why? Ridiculous thoughts that come and go like spoiled fruits left out on the porch,no no one understands because were'll all madmen. You pray to every deity in the book maybe you dialed the wrong number or maybe prayers spoil too.
© Andrew F., Bethesda, MD
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This article has 2 comments.
i enjoy how this poem relates to the darker side of life. You express your need for your prayers to come true, but you dont allow for your hopes to heighten too much because you are aware that not all can come true. I really like how you ended the poem with the line "maybe prayers spoil too" it ties the entire piece together. Very well done!
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