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Wed 17 Dec, 2003 07:16 pm
Walking along the water
composing a poem in my head.
Words no one will ever hear
words no one will ever comprehend.
Nice, sometimes thats the way to be. I do that alot actually.
Silence is the language of the poet - not the poem. So, when do you deliver the poems?
Love,
The poems are lost
the words forgotten.
Lost in the river,
forgotten by the world.
Leaving only a memory
shared by only one.
No souls to share
I split into two
The writer
The reader.
And then the writer into the reader
Reader into the writer.
The world may call me a lunatic
But I am the poet.....
No other knows
the words spoken to myself.
No other knows
the words fed into the river.
Poems amalgamating
into the world,
away from the men.
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