RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Alone, filled with desire, alone, empty, expired within,
seeking nothing, finding nothing, allowing changing seasons
small places to reside in.
Autumn falling in every sphere on earth, but none more touching
than within this sad, small heart.
Wanting to touch sights, feel sounds, I hear, ringing across
sight, feeling vibrations touching my heart, making it stir
in imagination of a new world beyond what I have seen.
Knowing the emptiness of penetrating desire, alone, empty,
Sights and sounds now dead, no feelings or hints of tomorrow
alive, just the corpse of a small child now grown and gone in
just one moment of death to behold.
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