Fool
I’ve been flying down the wrong way
All along the one way bend
And the dead-end called beginning
Is the dead-end at the end.
I lost all sense of direction
Forgetting the time of day
Dreams took over reality
Happiness was in my way.
The fool ends up chasing rainbows
Laughing-searching for the start
But happiness of a sane man
Turns into a broken hart.
I rather be a fool.
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Fairytale Lover | 2 | 11/17/2009 |
| Dear Best Friend | 0 | 11/17/2009 |
| Peaceful | 0 | 11/17/2009 |
| Lost | 0 | 11/17/2009 |
| Fool | 0 | 11/17/2009 |
| Love Affair | 0 | 11/17/2009 |
| No Regrets | 0 | 11/17/2009 |
| Equal Score | 0 | 11/17/2009 |
| Lost Love | 0 | 11/17/2009 |
| Forgive Me | 0 | 11/17/2009 |
| My other self- Insane | 0 | 11/17/2009 |
| I Loved You | 0 | 11/17/2009 |
| Fairytale Lover | 0 | 11/17/2009 |
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