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dr-mike-oconnellPoems
Brian Patrick Interesting, that someone like me Someone who grew large on the street Would have their very own island An Island where one could go, but never live The Island is far from beautiful The flora and fauna are deplete from color The water colorless and hard to the touch Sand invades making all heavy Visiting my Island becomes too often It pulls me – no beckons me like a lover To extend my stay never to retreat Never to return to the life I live Once on the Island chills and tremors grow Dripping with sweat only to give in to torment No sunshine, only the darkness and despair of the Island My Island delivers desperate comfort Never do I want to leave – only always My Island only for me to wallow about Forever trying to leave this paradise lost Only to find my island visit lingers ... © 2014 Brian Patrick
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May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 2:11 PM UTC
The Island
Brian Patrick Interesting, that someone like me Someone who grew large on the street Would have their very own island An Island where one could go, but never live The Island is far from beautiful The flora and fauna are deplete from color The water colorless and hard to the touch Sand invades making all heavy Visiting my Island becomes too often It pulls me – no beckons me like a lover To extend my stay never to retreat Never to return to the life I live Once on the Island chills and tremors grow Dripping with sweat only to give in to torment No sunshine, only the darkness and despair of the Island My Island delivers desperate comfort Never do I want to leave – only always My Island only for me to wallow about Forever trying to leave this paradise lost Only to find my island visit lingers ... © 2014 Brian Patrick
dr-mike-oconnell
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dr-mike-oconnell
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 2:11 PM UTC
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