Depth

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  • Sadness

    Depth


    Henry Van Olviline ©
     
    I  wonder how it got this low?
    Seems like an eternity, taken a tow
    To this place of bleakness, sorrow and whim
    The agony of depth, as the light starts to dim
    One has to wonder, what have I done?
    Sins of a father, imposed on the son
    Ashes to ashes, may now I might rest
    The hell endured, life is yet a test
    Tears in the pillow, hoping to lie
    Footprints to that place, wanting to cry
    As I look at my son, the one I brought to
    I knew the darkness fades, light shines through

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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