Blank Page
Thoughts turn to dreamsdreams to reality
reality is just fantasy
wrapped in a bow.
The bow is set to unravel
the moment a dreams deferred
it turns
Back to a thought
thought to a synapse
and gone in a flash
Blank Page
Thoughts turn to dreamsMrGee commented on Blank Page
09-26-2009
09/26/2009
Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.
Unknown Source
Title | Comments | Submitted |
---|---|---|
Title | Comments | Submitted |
Love Song for The Apocalypse | 0 | 05/05/2010 |
Moving Clouds | 3 | 12/14/2009 |
Grass Stains. | 1 | 12/14/2009 |
This Curse | 0 | 12/14/2009 |
Stages | 0 | 12/14/2009 |
Guise of the Devil. | 0 | 12/14/2009 |
Coatrack of Invisibility. | 0 | 12/14/2009 |
Blank Page | 1 | 09/14/2009 |
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.