Reads: 43  | Likes: 2  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic



I hear it in the silence.

I see it in the darkness.

I touch it in the void.

My mind carries it.

My heart squeezes it.

I run from it.

I long for it.

It is one of a kind.

There are so many.

It is invisible.

It shapes me.

It is old and young.

It has its own life.

It will never die.

It is vital.

It is mine, but I belong to it.

I forget it is there; but it reminds me I am here.

It is what makes me whole.

It is my soul.




Submitted: November 07, 2020

© Copyright 2020 Penny Scribe. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Mike S.

A fine poem, Penny, one that says it all

Sat, November 7th, 2020 5:52pm


Thanks a lot Mike, appreciate it.

Sat, November 7th, 2020 5:08pm

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