Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
12-3-16. The road drifts north along an empty shore. Moving away from all that pressures the broken souls and hearts of those alone in this world. Headed no place certain, just alone. Endlessly mulling histories that never happened. Speaking and shouting into the empty places and shattered emotions That echo within the walls of their personal prison. Those that live within the spaces of another's life spend theirs searching for any meaning And affirmation for their own existence. Only rarely finding that dream within the dust, wind, and Foreboding that surrounds their very existence.
0
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 2:37 PM UTC
Drifting
12-3-16. The road drifts north along an empty shore. Moving away from all that pressures the broken souls and hearts of those alone in this world. Headed no place certain, just alone. Endlessly mulling histories that never happened. Speaking and shouting into the empty places and shattered emotions That echo within the walls of their personal prison. Those that live within the spaces of another's life spend theirs searching for any meaning And affirmation for their own existence. Only rarely finding that dream within the dust, wind, and Foreboding that surrounds their very existence.
pwm02176
Written by
76/M/Mid Maine coastal forests
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 2:37 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem