Would have stayed a bit longer
but i am running out of words
i had hoped my words would count
for something like the great poets,
I am no bard, no rhyme to my name,
i had hoped my words would count for something
that they would last longer than the stares
we shared one summer night, long ago
when we were younger
our souls still unseared
our dreams still unfettered
our voice unstilled by fear, by the wounded words
we spoke one summer night
another summer night, we were younger
we were insane, and the words we spoke
seared like daggers borne of an angry sun
on this night, another summer night
the words fall like rain - ending the drought
ending the parchedness
my words count for nothing
until they find their way into a heart into a soul,
until they find their way into you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What an incredibly honest write. I have saved it to my list of favorites. Your words telling stories my heart thought only I knew. Perfect. PEACE
Thank you Susan, for the kind words. Truly, even the sweetest words are for nothing if they do not reach the heart of someone.