Remembering the adage well, with none to hear, the tree that fell had never made a sound. I contemplate, with saddened eyes, if hope was lost, would its demise be missed by none around? I used to dream of brighter days- that always gave me wondrous ways around what life would deal. When one by one those issues took the options from my future's book, my fate seemed all too real. With no attention paid to me my hope had fallen, like that tree, in muted reticence. The wall I built to keep the pain from ever hurting me again is now my lone defense.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorJack has published over 350 poems in his career, many with his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana. Archives
February 2021
Categories |