Is It Poetry
Come Though The Hills - Poem by Is It Poetry
Some live to tell but they asking wont.
Some only tell where it is dark and damp.
Confessions led each soul back to where?
Before us one walks rags to riches.
Round them all up and go tell their master.
Clustered there they are grows a
long veiny stem
up through the leaf colored door.
Cranes feed on the frogs in the ditches.
How often we came we whom you are.
And in our coming
really we thought of the day.
I go to bed every night
thinking of only my wife
and my kids.
Comments about Come Though The Hills by Is It Poetry
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.