Saint in heart
reading solemn text.
He tells me
what to do.
But these brown trees keep growing
from my depressed skull.
Saint in heart
reading solemn text.
He tells me
what to do.
But these brown trees keep growing
from my depressed skull.
Angels, Compassion, Depression, Fear, Isolation, Poems, Poetry, recovery, Spirituality, Take Me To The Hospital
This entry was posted on April 19, 2011, 9:05 pm and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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Stillfugue |
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Fiction, Poetry, Essays |
#1 by Val Erde on April 20, 2011 - 8:55 am
I know the feeling.
#2 by Carl on April 20, 2011 - 9:50 pm
Thank you for your comment.
#3 by Marian on April 20, 2011 - 5:42 pm
rockin the shardoma!
#4 by Marian on April 20, 2011 - 5:42 pm
or shadorma. i love the form and never get the name right.
#5 by Carl on April 20, 2011 - 9:57 pm
Thank you for your comment. I think your second version is right, but I get confused on it too. The other one that bothers me is why do they add an A to Tank?