Walking
Walking
Walking down the road alone
I stopped and stared at the great
Unknown
With weary eyes
Sorrow deep
I sat down and began to weep
With the wind in my hair
I started to stare at a flower
That was in the bare
Alone as it
Alone as I
We shared a bond that was
Beyond the sky
While I was down
It was up
It had a light
Like don't give up
With watered eyes
That felt it's pain
I stood and began to walk
Again
Poetry is what is lost in translation.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| May it be | 0 | 10/10/2009 |
| Humans | 0 | 10/10/2009 |
| Twisted | 0 | 10/08/2009 |
| Lost | 0 | 10/08/2009 |
| Weeping Willow | 1 | 09/30/2009 |
| Glass Eyes | 0 | 09/30/2009 |
| Walking | 0 | 09/30/2009 |
| The Lighthouse | 1 | 09/28/2009 |
| God's Mercy | 0 | 09/28/2009 |
| Mother/Child | 0 | 09/28/2009 |
| Forget Me Not | 0 | 09/28/2009 |
| The Face | 0 | 09/28/2009 |
| ME | 0 | 09/28/2009 |
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