The Day

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  • Emotional

    The Day

    See I reckon I have opened my eyes 2 late. I see my Son's lost in the world of fate. Not given the degree of what was left of me but taken before I noticed. Is it the pain of my flesh that now I detest the rage from my seed of design. Is this really my fault or was I the one whom got caught just because I believed in old-fashion love. As for my Son's I pray they never have to live this way finding out that their not even Mine.

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    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    openeye’s Poems (2)

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