3: 21 Am Poem by R. G. Bell

3: 21 Am

Rating: 5.0

Storm clouds bleed and render earth to mud.
We lie inside, assaulted by the lies,
Tightly bound in gray dismality.

Somewhere a distant, lonely whisper dies,
Not merely unremembered, never heard.

Patti Masterman 24 March 2015

Says a lot in few words..wrapped in gray dismality; memorable line.

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Dave Walker 24 March 2015

A great poem, like you said a bit dark, but illness will do that to you, the words relate well to your illness, I don't know if that was your intention but to me you can relate it to it. I wish you a full and speedy recovery.

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Howard Savage 20 September 2016

Great poem with a strong and soft sense of emotions. Great write. Strong metaphor.

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Akhtar Jawad 01 April 2015

A wonderful poem.............................

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Kelly Kurt 30 March 2015

I enjoyed this poem very much. Thanks for sharing.

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Smoky Hoss 25 March 2015

Awake... or awakened, in the early hours of an approaching new-day... by a storm (of life, perhaps?): the old thoughts of a loss, or something missed, they do not rest; what a grand (very grand!) description that third line is! Perhaps that distant, lonely whisper was the only thing that could have truly unwrapped the gray dismality? One must wonder. - There is a genuine, earthy pathos in this ephemeral poem; like a scent passing on the breeze it seems to bring a deep memory of something very special, but just out of sight. Haunting. Maybe, at 3: 21 am, I too have, just briefly, had this thought, somewhere in the more compassionate depths of my hidden humanity... maybe...

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Briony Nicholls 25 March 2015

R G Bell, it's wonderful to see you writing again. It is good, but quite dark... I hope you will have reason to be inspired to write something more cheerful soon. You have admirable poetry writing skills. Best of luck to you.

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