Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2020
To the past- Ah, the past.
Afar the near and winding hour
A kindred spirit thou art
To Earth thy mother
And man thy creature.
Why must you prey upon a broken heart?
Be you bird or beast,
Who's wings hold no pleasantries?
How then shall I heal?
Would you leave me, then?
Under foot and solid stone?
You alter things with a different view.
A dream, a phantom, you will remain,
And shall you not repeat again!
Hank Love
Written by
Hank Love  27/M/Borger, Texas
(27/M/Borger, Texas)   
35
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems