Next to the road of lifeA Poem by SleeplessVolcano
I bled my soul onto a sheet
my ink whispered softly in the wind my pen fought like a knight and told my eyes the story of who I thought I was but those winds of change became too strong and grabbed that letter of life and sucked it into a tornado of forgetfulness so here I sit next to the road of untold stories waiting for someone else's story to write for mine is gone with the wind.
© 2017 SleeplessVolcanoAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews Added on December 1, 2017 Last Updated on December 1, 2017 AuthorSleeplessVolcanoAbout"In the end there doesn't have to be anyone who understands you. There just has to be someone who wants to". Robert Brault Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. ~ Pablo Pica.. more..Writing
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