Discontented Self Poem by Susan LeGree

Discontented Self

Rating: 5.0


What does it mean
to cry there is no more.
Has every dream died
within the breast;
can it be true at last,
aspiration has gone to rest?

To accept the insufficient,
is a canvas never signed,
A crescendo interrupted,
a wild thing confined.

And what if in life
fruition fails to teem
Will it from the grave
still be heard to keen
its discontent?

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Susan LeGree

Susan LeGree

Toledo, Ohio (re-born in Florida)
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