Poet’s Purgatory
The poet’s heart tonight is saddened
By the words he cannot find
He feels a little lost and hurting
A little part of him feels blind
He sits alone and stares at
The white glare of his screen
Plays inanely with his cursor
Like it’s the first one that he’s seen
The silence echoes of his wall
Deafening in its sublime
He feels lost in a purgatory
For some unspoken crime
He fears the night and dreads the day
An awkward cross-road lost alone
Too old to change to young to die
He just wants to find his way back home.
Take care,
Sherry
Sandie May Angel :o)