Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site


Submitted:Mar 4, 2011    Reads: 25    Comments: 2    Likes: 2   

On sodden lawn

the canvas was torn

The cancer of ache

circulates your yawn

The wound bleeds

as the hurt recedes

Winds of preservation

absorb your needs

Every now and again

amongst the turmoil and pain

Appears a bow of beauty

that shelters the rain

As you dry

and start to cry

It seems reasonable

to shout out why

Amongst the grip of a spectrum so smooth

Will the grey clouds today finally move?


| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list


About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.