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Once more my heart is in my pen wasting the paper and telling lies. My brain stays quiet, but thinks: „Again! Will there be an end to all the why’s? “
There I go and here I stand, coward-heart is ever present. Never knowing were to land, never knowing what is pleasant.
And so I rest like marble stone waiting for someone to show me the way. But always and ever I’m standing alone, my cowardly heart is whispering: „Stay! “
Elizabeth Stone
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User Rating: |
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8.0
/10 (3 votes) |
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Click here to write your comments about this poem (Coward by Elizabeth Stone)
Dr.subhendu Kar (4/24/2008 12:31:00 PM)
yet lovely poem, i like it,10/10, thanks for sharing |
James B. Earley (4/20/2008 4:25:00 PM)
My friend a poet's pen can never lie, nor waste paper in search of whatever! Poetry is indeed the spiritual window to the soul. Please keep writing, and sharing. Thanks.. |
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