The wind is blowing hard. I watch the leaves rustle as I set down my things. I feel the sun shining on my back, and hear the waves below. They crash on the rocks, as although they are clapping for me. My whole world is in my hands. There is so much left to life, just waiting to be discovered.
And yet.
I don’t want to discover anymore.
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Author:
TwistedLogic (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 2nd, 2025 10:39
- Comment from author about the poem: Not quite a poem, just imagery and feeling
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
Offline)
Comments2
Images are part of poetry and this one a sad one in the sight of beauty. Well said
Thank you:)
A touching write of being surrounded by natures beauty but no longer having the desire or will to be part of it, nicely expressed and written
Thank you:))
You are very welcome
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