Pitch White Poem by Wes Thompson

Pitch White

Rating: 5.0


heaven must be tangled
just above the sky
we can reach with empty hands
where heartstrings come untied
it seems that we were laid to ruin
like a child tucked in to bed
with a kiss and gentle sigh
we weren't better off than dead

Sunday, December 2, 2007
Topic(s) of this poem: heaven,kiss
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success