A Muttering Ghost 412b - Poem by DAVID GERARDINO
THE drooping canvas pounded
lusily in the wind.
A shaft of sun light, choked, and
strangled your wreckage, leaving
you stupid, and a little afraid.
THUNDER yells, as you try to run,
better listen up, and turn back around.
YOU mutter and laugh as you fall
to the ground, is this your life, or
a dream from the past.
THE drooping cavas................
Comments about A Muttering Ghost 412b by DAVID GERARDINO
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You