Original Poetry Forums


03-26-2019 at 01:19:14 PM


Please crtique


There were times along the way,
When words were easy to say,
And I wrote songs for the day.
Those that came into my head,
And some from words that were said.
But on one fateful day, I did not foresee,
I became someone else, no longer free,
And I am not the man I used to be.
Now days bring nary a dream,
Or words to say what I mean,
And there is no place to go,
When all the answers are no.

But when I sleep and lose my sight,
My mind can at times take flight,
And there will appear another path,
Where I find words I can craft.
The words would come and be keen,
To circle me and wipe clean,
From my soul any sorrow or blight,
So now, I can now write songs for the night.

To have great poets there must be great audiences too.

Walt Whitman, American Poet (1819-1892)