When you walk into the room


Tribal tremors vibrate through me
and at here where all is shifting,
where time is always late and see,
never true to life or its dense drifting.
The notion that shapes me and my to be
in silly woods with their sinister gloom
dies when you walk into the room.




Poetry by Bob
Read 818 times
Written on 2009-01-06 at 23:27

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melanie sue
I like the way you make the words work. But it is the last line that makes this poem stand out and have such universal appeal. This was very uplifting in its message.
2009-01-07



Interesting perception of someone's presence, I wonder who it is? Thanks for posting.
2009-01-07