Doom

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Tags:
  • Loss
    • ,
  • Passion
    • ,
  • Emotional
    • ,
  • Dark Poetry

    Doom

     These rooms are silent
    tears for no reason roll down my face
    there is something missing
    my heart can not name it
    life lost in a meaningless loop of wasted days
    heading in a slow march towards death.

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    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.

    virgogreen26’s Poems (2)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    Forever Lost 1 07/14/2009
    Doom 0 07/14/2009
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