The graves of my youth
lay scattered behind me
Each headstone a failure
endorsed by my hand
A shroud covered memory
encloses my history
Where ghosts of tomorrow
roam—haunting my past
(St. David’s Church: September, 2022)
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Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: September 29th, 2022 12:13
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
- User favorite of this poem: Paul Bell.
Offline)
Comments3
Don't know if there is such a word. A haunteness. The first grave of your youth, echoes throughout life till it's your time. Poignant poem, enjoyed it.
Thanks Paul.
Wow i dont even know how to describe how i felt reading this there was this feeling, truly amazing poem really it made me feel haunted just as you.
Very kind, thanks.
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