A Prisoner Of Life

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  • Dark Poetry

    A Prisoner Of Life

    To each his own

    I'm soaked to the bone.........

    by an endless array of tears

    that's been shed for so many years.

    Instead of soaring free

    my spirits become a river

    a body of water too deep to see

    I'm drowning inside........

    unable to swim,

    unable to gasp for air

    and there's no one to save me.



    Just the depth of this water......

    and me

    glub-glub-glub

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    stringer commented on A Prisoner Of Life

    10-10-2009

    I hope to soon read something from you that offers a glimmer of hope. Tell me what it will take to set you free, make you taste the the warmth, of this gift we call life, this life we call a gift. Tell me about waking up and finding paridise. Save me please!!
    Reply to Comment

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    GCoudret’s Poems (2)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    A Prisoner Of Life 1 05/27/2009
    ME 0 05/25/2009
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