Apr 21 2014
Years Since
Somebody leaves.
Something inside dies.
And poetry flies
away.
Why is the winged Muse turning her back,
refusing the rescue?
Does She not see him?
creeping closer?
Numb comes. He smothers.
Chokes back the rhyme
and brings only why me
But poems about the lack of
poetry
are also
a
gift
of
flight.
(2 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
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This is amazing. I can’t even… Wow o.o Just wow.