Rhythm Of It's Own Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Rhythm Of It's Own
Withering silently in the morning sun, heart traipsing
slowly with a rhythm of it's own.
Surging forth beneath great pressure, sending signals
wanting help.
Forgoing all pleasures in the wake of interior death,
crawling carefully to it's bed.
Without sensing anything from beyond melodies of time,
sinking slowly, hidden in depressions, gone from sight.
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/2/2024 5:13:48 PM # 1.0.0.1119
