Tate Morgan > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

A wild filly of a daughter whose never had her spirit broke Who never took to the bridle nor has she bent beneath life's yoke

Some things are better left unsaid best locked in your heart there saved The pain you harbor in your chest is your own, to take to the grave

"Just a poet then?"

God offered me omnipotence by giving me a chance to choose I stood bold stance, and took that chance to ever walk within his shoes

Are we but images made of God his work in labored progress Made from the dust and the sod our one sheer moment of happiness

Bearing for her life's burdens soothes the children of their tears Is the rock all others break upon leaves fond memories are his years

Can any man say he is not beholding to Well from which life flows?

The sky and clouds tell my purpose to the green waved broiling sea The ones I loved, whom I left behind will long to follow near after me

His teacher had diagnosed him with some attention deficit He didn't conform to her rules to be quiet and just to sit

Give me a place where I belong one I can come back to Whenever I have strayed too far away from me and you