Ghosts of the Past Writers all have ghosts inside, In Pandors box, long time they hide. To no one, the puzzle they confide, Carrying the burden against the tide. And when time comes to be, When old ghosts one sets free. Piece by piece for everyone to see, Lest they overwhelm, even the keeper of the key. Not that the keeper wants to lie, Show them all and Truth shall die. Hearers, from vast facts, will shie, For the strings they wish not to tie. Yet, when fact is given in part, Will it, from the bigger picture, depart? Should one stop the beatings of a heart? Let maggots devour them, like a dead rat? A question to all poetry readers. Should poets be blanket weavers? Would you discern honest from deceivers? Or are you just indiscriminate receivers? Thank you Naomi Porch and Liz Browning :-) *please.. This does not include role plays and inspired writings or all of us, my friends, have to be declared psychopaths! ;-)
Posted on: Fri, 14 Nov 2014 07:14:17 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015