Treasure Island

Is It Poetry

(1958 - / Bus-Boys And Poets, Washington D.C.)

The Unborn


Just the sight of a star filled night,
my first love was for you and all the rest.
Each hot ember from the fire,
where I was burned I feel inside lies empty
like a robins nest.

However this plays out,
our views they slowly, ever slowly
now leave doubt.

This empty feeling that I feel,
and how my daughter feels about her life.
That day I know has passed,
and like the past is now alright.

Submitted: Friday, November 29, 2013
Edited: Saturday, November 30, 2013

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