The Cry

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  • Fantasy

    The Cry

    As darkness surrounds me,

    and death is near,

    there is one thing that I can hear.



    Sharp as a gun shot,

    smooth as silk.

    Aimed toward the moon,

    white as milk.



    Closer they come,

    my heart fills with fear.

    Down my cheek,

    streams a single tear.



    As they howl,

    I turn around,

    and there's a wolf.

    Standing it's ground.

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    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

    solorose’s Poems (8)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    The Moon, The Name, and Love 2
    Never Alone 1
    The Cry 1
    My Message Machine 0
    A Secret Admirer 1
    Everyone's a Critique 0
    A Taken Love 2
    The Dove 4