Voices Poem by Gillian Commerford

Voices



When I was a child
and suffering
I wrapped myself in fantasy
like a warm cocoon
and though I looked quite ordinary
I knew I was wonderful within.

And what is insanity
except another form of reality?

And was I insane then
who heard voices in the trees-
pitiful voices making pitiful pleas?

For it was something more than
mere imagining
and it was something more than
just the breeze-
Perhaps the voices that I heard
were just another part of me.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: childhood
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Gajanan Mishra 20 August 2014

voices that I heard, good writing, thanks.

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success