Freestyle Poem – A Lost Touch
Everything is moving forward,
Quiet cries left behind,
A shadow of the past,
Blinded by the light,
This cold empty house,
Was my warm magic world,
My cold lonely heart,
Now struggles to be heard,
Small speck,
A spectacle,
A nervous fossil,
Worthy of a memory but not worth remembering,
Luscious leeching of a land lost to love,
A bent soul,
Hell bent on cheating,
A crow’s happy cry,
Warm to its kind,
But when a man takes flight,
Only his quiet cries are left behind.
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