Torn Apart

Beaten by life's hands again
A strike known all too well
The pen rips paper to shreds again
With nothing left to say

Who knew the artist would become so shallow?
Who thought sight and sound could become so bland?

Whipped at the heart
The sun is so tired

This muddy river swallows all hope
Wheels turn but the mind burns
A cloud engulfs this voice
And rest will not soon ease                              This emptiness

Who would've known the world could take this away?
Who would have even cared?

Bludgeoned is the soul
The son is so tired
Crumbling in the wind, gasping for air...

Reviews

[Victoria PoetryBunny]

"The pen rips paper to shreds again
With nothing left to say"
... very nice write, i enjoy it a lot and love these two lines.

[Tkess]

Something as small as a grain of sand in the hour glass of time can tear us apart. Very nice write.

[Ruth]

I love the "son" at the end..........
And life deals a blow and we think thoughts we never thought possible!
Brilliant work again...I can immerse myself in your words!
xx

[BrynnaW.]

Wow... So descriptive. Very well written and described. I felt like I was feeling the emotions. I loved this. Great job! Keep on writing!