by Unknown
Jun 2009 367 Views 2 comments
Indifference
Words I drop onto the ground
do crack my soul but make no sound.
Tears I spill on placid lake
yet not a ripple, wave, or wake.
Sigh from heart felt fondness grows
that not the lightest feather blows.
do crack my soul but make no sound.
Tears I spill on placid lake
yet not a ripple, wave, or wake.
Sigh from heart felt fondness grows
that not the lightest feather blows.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2009
About this poem:
Nearly all of the poems I have written are the product of inspiration. Most often from someone I loved or love's demise. Usually conceived in the dim light of depression on a napkin. This one's origin is obvious and is one of my first of my first love. I am however not a purveyor of unhappiness and have a few that are descriptive in nature, whimsical at a time, and compassionate at another.Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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