Is It Poetry
solitude In Mine
Here in my solitude it is lost inside,
yea though I have been well I once was a man.
In my solitude she sought,
she sought like I a place to to go and hide.
In my solitude I can not but repeat,
one thought that is alive, no longer is.
However deep my solitude, my room, my blurry sight.
To engage your intellect with out stretched hands,
my lips forget the taste of your sweet wine, the apple of.
However free I never felt unless I was with you.
And strained relationships weren't strong unless because.
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Comments about this poem (solitude In Mine by Is It Poetry )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
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William Ernest Henley
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