RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Great Men - Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Tattered strangers, roaming through night's long chambers.
Forging slumber from their tired minds and bodies, sewn from under
Tantalizing strings of melancholy fill their ears with it's eerie
Striving to overcome the distance felt between them, stepping lightly
as popcorn through thoughts of once great men.
Looking at stones marking graves of long dead bones, knowing that all
brains of great men have since turned to dust.
Leaving fine particles on the ground, there is no longer any thought
coming from them.
Great thoughts, like great men,
turn to dust once life has ended.
Comments about Great Men by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You