Wistful Words. - Poem by Sharlie Goddard
Hang in a frosted air,
Hopeless things uttered
Sharding a trust.
I look at a floor
And try to make a mosaic of the brilliant colours
But they are blurring and churning and slip like peas in a frying pan.
My eyelids are so thick and heavy
Scream into an ocean
It hits a tidal wall and echo’s back.
Comments about Wistful Words. by Sharlie Goddard
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl