Unclean Sheet - Poem by Dan Reynolds
As the last word formed
on the lachrymal page
From the hiss of the nib
came the last of her rage
Then she tore it and crumpled it
Tossed it in the bin
Though the pad still held secrets
Deep down and ingrained
Still apt to arise
How sad that a blank page
can still proffer lies.
Comments about Unclean Sheet by Dan Reynolds
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.