Like A Wasteland Poem by Stan Petrovich
Like A Wasteland
Nature is the cruelest thing,
Bringing dead flowers to a cemetary,
And sneezing as a ghost passes through.
I spent the night reading Keats
And have no one to share him with.
Loneliness is the hardest thing to stive for;
When I get there I cry with happiness
And careen with fear.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
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4/19/2024 9:51:19 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I like this poem, I feel nature as cruelest. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.