As I sit with the muse in silence
Why would I cry
When my head hangs low in the clouds
My heart feels heavy in your silence
To many times a fear has fallen away
The sky seems less blue
Looking for a time more like before
Empty hands hold a memory
Less in the love that remains
Old is born from a heartbeat
Strung on a single chord
Coloured on the inside like a weary soul
I think I might just hide
2 comments:
shouldnt it be "too many times"? That would make sense for me.the brevity of the poem, adds to it pregnant significances.loved the last stanza.
Beautiful, Adrian... I especially like the ending.
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