Insomnia Blurb
There are no tales
Just stories
All in a whirl
With only a few snippets
Never in full length
Memory can hold
Simply because
These are stories
Captured while in topsy-turvy turns
And half-awake winks
While the room
Shifts its wash
From dark to light
If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.
Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Insomnia Blurb | 0 | 08/12/2009 |
| Nightmares | 0 | 08/12/2009 |
| For Toil | 0 | 08/12/2009 |
| Wild Winds | 0 | 08/12/2009 |
| Baclaran's Call | 0 | 08/12/2009 |
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.