Unknown
Do you ever wonder,Who put those poetic thoughts.
Within my head,
Was it my own cessations.
Or maybe god's creations,
That I've never had before.
Although I've asked,
I've had no explanation.
As what has come before,
Poetry just flows from me.
Some soars high,
Like butterflies from the sky.
Crashing to the floor.
Some say it's the poet's I've read,
Every thought I have.
Has come out of my own head.
Like a tap dripping out water,
My mind so soaks it up like a sieve.
Going to places I'd like to live.
Some not so nice until my life,
Has no more me to give.
I hope this life of poetry,
Is not the end but the beginning.
And if you're in the knowing,
I can say finally I like where my
Life is going.
No longer forgotten or unknown,
Anymore.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 157 times
Written on 2022-04-18 at 01:11
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
D G Moody |
