Man upon the island, in pain, agony, lonliness and woe. who left him here, none can know. All day and all night he searches and wails to escape this tomb, this barren paradise.
The isle of despair and doubts and delays of dreams that might have been. No one keeps him here but the water, no shank awaits in center grass. His isle is made a hell for one and no one else can know.
But the hell is not his prescence here, no hell is that a dip, a dip of the toe to find the water is glass and that home awaits over sea; another could walk home free, but this one’s faith, it will never enter the sea.
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didn’t know you were a poet
By: Laura on January 30, 2009
at 3:00 pm