From my poetry collection FLOWERS DO SPEAK.
DEAD END
It is six o'clock and i am still a rock,
petrified by fear and isolation.
My father dead and i am lost in dread,
swimming in the sea of desperation.
It is like i am in a new life after his death
and all the tears come with every breath.
I feel like a baby alone and afraid,
how will his love be replaced?
Like in a dead end way i am walking.
Trees mourn and birds are talking.
In my fantasy, where memories stay, i live
and i see that my days and nights silently leave.
Dead end my friend is the circle of life,
no use to argue with God and strife.
We will all end in the dark afterlife
and if we are good maybe turn up as trees in the wildlife.
Poetry by AFRODITE STATHI
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Written on 2022-04-05 at 09:38
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by AFRODITE STATHI Latest textsSORROWSO ALIKE THE CHANGE NEW YEAR,MY DEAR DOING TIME |
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