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Timothy Ward Sep 2016
i grasp at grains
holding on
to a fistful of sand
as wave after wave
washes away
the innocence
the giggling
the playing
the screaming
the apathy
the maturity
the regrets
the silence
leaving nothing
but memories
and tears
washed away
Childhood for me like for most was a mixed bag! Lovely until parents passed away and I have had to grow up... The beach my sanctuary!
Timothy Ward Sep 2016
we're bare
we're naked
scratched
and torn
our tongues
still sharp
rip at our
souls
where do we go...
so full on empty
where do we go...
so full on empty
The poet's path is a lonely torturous introspective pilgrimage into the depths of the divine and the demonic.
Timothy Ward Sep 2016
sheets of rain pour down
cleansing the city again
i splash about town
Nothing like a good splish splash of puddle jumping in the rain to take one back to the fun of childhood :))
Timothy Ward Sep 2016
orphaned by the night
your tender whispers silent
a tear soaked pillow
Timothy Ward Sep 2016
winds    blow    ceaselessly
waters rush down rivulets
a      mountain     crumbles
Timothy Ward Sep 2016
the less i yearn
the less i churn
the more i share
the more i care
the less i keep
the less i weep
the more i give
the more i live
Giving is receiving
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