Dusty Poems 7
Hollow is the Common man
Depth, he does not see
Washed away in selfish pride
His anguished mind to be his guide
Seeping through his mortal soul
His truths are now but lies
Awakened with one gasp of breath
Fearing the loss of one last quest
Tearing through his flesh, a flood
Clenching to his aching heart
Draws away his hand to see
Nothing but his blood
A moment too late
Thus is his fate
Tears of pity stain his shroud
Never again will he stand so proud
This packs a powerful punch!
Thank you! Whenever I say thank you for the poems in this series, I feel like I’m saying thank you for my younger self. Somehow sharing these old poems, I’m validating that I had this desire to write poetry that I didn’t acknowledge before. I had this desire to be part of the world of poetry nearly 20 years ago and I didn’t take it seriously. Luckily, it came back around and re-entered my life.