I spilled my messy soul
Graffitied the locked door
Your silence demands that I stop
Our memory tells me, More!
Endless is my exertion
In marking out my way
You told me once my words painted pictures.
In your heart or your head, do they stay?
Endless is your exertion
To scrub out my words from your door
To leave me forever in silence
Deranged at the foot of your door.
Even though I am tired and weary
My ink still pours from my heart
It pours with an endless longing
To go back and erase what I penned at the start.
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Author:
sylviasearcher (
Offline) - Published: July 1st, 2018 02:43
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 34
- Users favorite of this poem: Heartwriter
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Comments1
Excellent! Just excellent!
Thank you 😊
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