It's been a couple of years since I've written anything. There is nothing that will bring my poetry back up to scuff like some constructive criticism though.
Awaiting Disregard
The summer’s a woman
and winter as well
He met her in Heaven
She left him in Hell
The mind was too heavy
The heart didn’t beat
and life was an anchor
attached to his feet
So he watched and he waited
The sun never came
He escaped from the darkness
embracing the flame
And as he fell in the forest
his thoughts made a shrill sound...
Father Time is a doctor
who wasn’t around



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