The flow of pain rushes
I can no longer count
how many times
I felt alone.
The roar of thunder
Fearless flight
The fall of the rain
It is all a cliché.
A naïve idea that filled
Us with questions
A nostalgic experience
A stupid echo.
YOU ARE READING
Garden for Funeral
HumorA free verse poem. Thoughts that occupy the heart, mind, and soul. A collective experience of the mind written in words. One can relate and one can not.
