To Van Gogh by Ann Wood

To Van Gogh
Whether the anger lies inside me
or am I hiding in it?
I don't know, but he holds me captive
and makes my ego strong.
The hand runs alone
and swings things.
Me too, drawing at home
and fills with loneliness.




Poetry by Ann Wood The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 309 times
Written on 2020-03-31 at 21:00

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