The Poet Poem by D B Versehawker
The Poet
It's winter in my lonely house
Darkness wraps me tight
I turn on the lights and they reveal only pain
In the mystic haze of questions
And the heart a crimson mess..
suicide! suicide!
Someone's scream tore through the silence
'suicide! suicide! the boy wants to be a poet! ' They said
Wednesday, July 26, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: suicide,poet
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
We grow up reading works of dead poets, we read about their lives but whilst they live they are treated as if subhuman. No one wants their children to grow up to be poets. Because poetry doesn't earn a dime.
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5/5/2024 1:04:27 PM # 1.0.0.1119
