The night is falling.
There is so much guilt
from man to man
from woman to woman.
Sacrifices of the days
the moments,
are the stream of forbidden words.
The hands all so dirty,
stained with nothing but pain.
Here, the sun is bright.
Sitting under the canopy of the trees
looking up
there, one bird
another
and another
all ready to fly away from me
running on the lap of tomorrow
brighter than today
perhaps rainier
cloudier.
Oh, how much I do love the rainy days.
My mind, so fast, with swirling the path
of so many girls before me
the ones that I haven't touched their souls yet
but I might, with the droplets of my soul
parallel to their dreams.
-
Author:
Shahla Latifi (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 30th, 2026 14:17
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell
- In collections: NEW POEMS.
Offline)
Comments2
I thought at first this was going down the hallowean route.
Now I think it more to real life, probably a past life.
You know when the birds fly off, it's time to go too.
Lovely and nicely written. Inspirational.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.