WORDS OF THE LIVING
(TIME)
Sun shining over a misty morning
Young man, asleep deep into morning
Notebook, beside his bed
Pillow cradles his weary head
Bluebells in the dirt
Creases beneath the pocket of his shirt
Quilt covers his body
Rain, later returning
The, Young man, asleep deep into morningWind blows through his open window
A deep, breeze blows his brown hair
Across his face
Not a sound escapes the place
No one there, without a trace
The Young man, asleep deep into morningInky letters on the page
Growing in the garden, basil, sunflower, sage
Don't let your sands of time
Flow through your failing fingers
Pen in hand
Make sure you grab the sand
But the Young man is still asleep, deep into morningAnother man has been up since dawn
Forming-; castles out of commas
Statues out of sentences
Worlds out of the words he writes
Power out of his punctuation
One day his work will sweep the nation
Fixing and healing hearts across the world
But for now he just works on
Fixing himself
With the notebook on the bookshelfAnd still, the hound man sleeps, deep into morning
Until years later, he's deep in mourning
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Words Of The Dead- Words Of The Living- #Wattys2019
Poesía#1 in poetry- 26/7/18 Every day, thousands of people struggle with mental and physical illnesses, fighting battles people refuse to talk about. I'm here to change that. This poetry collection shines a light on mental illness, hopefully saving a few...