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Coward

Rating: 3.5

Once more my heart is in my pen
wasting the paper and telling lies.
My brain stays quiet, but thinks: „Again!
Will there be an end to all the why’s? “

There I go and here I stand,
coward-heart is ever present.
Never knowing were to land,
never knowing what is pleasant.

And so I rest like marble stone
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dr.subhendu Kar 24 April 2008

yet lovely poem, i like it,10/10, thanks for sharing

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James B. Earley 20 April 2008

My friend a poet's pen can never lie, nor waste paper in search of whatever! Poetry is indeed the spiritual window to the soul. Please keep writing, and sharing. Thanks..

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