Is It Poetry
Returned from whence I found you growing up.
Down by the sea,
I sit alone to ponder atop a large wave that wanders back and forth.
Evolution here has passed us by.
Ships their timbers, ribs exposed to all.
She is a fiend, a friend to all but me to have, I know.
A promise made I can't except because.
No trees a bush I was a man before, I was a boy to her.
A promise made to you was never kept.
Down by the sea,
our faith was never kept, down by the sea I dreampt.
Instantly fatal it was hard and not an antidote.
I found you growing up, we turned and went that way.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
- Heather Burns
Udiah (witness to Yah)