"Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." ~Thomas Gray
"Poetry unites." ~Anon
"Truth is such a rare thing, it is delightful to tell it." ~Emily Dickinson
Written by Noah Champoux
He is 18 years old, and lives in Winterpark, Florida, USA
His blog: Noah the Great
The soul searches for a home,
when its doors lock itself out:
it takes what it has and leaves;
he whispers in her ears
the last of his breath,
but she closes her mind away:
his fingers stretch for words,
but they’re stuck in a past mind.
his screams sound by night,
as the lies give him reason to live:
she holds him close, crying,
telling him not to leave;
minutes and days pass away,
he doesn’t notice the changing seasons:
dead from the inside, he looks out
through the glass windows
of his eyes, wondering
what life would have been like.
Originally published on writer's personal blog.
Posted with consent of the writer.
Note: All written material is copyrighted by the individual writer and/or blog author, and may not be used without written consent. Copyright © Breathing Poetry 2009. All Rights Reserved.
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