Howard MacDougall


Annealing - Poem by Howard MacDougall

No words can a brush
Bring to paint

Hops that tary
Works in mysterious vain

Search the depths
Pains ceaseless
Desires

Cries heard from a cornor
Tried to hide
Distance hope
Carved with pen
Strokes in stride
Quickly silence called
Free and gone
The noise inside
I let it go...

Topic(s) of this poem: hopelessness

Form: Blues Poem


Poet's Notes about The Poem

Quick write

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Poem Submitted: Monday, September 7, 2015



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