Red Tide
It flows like a river
Not like a stream
the deeper it goes
The deeper the pain
I love how it feels
The color, the warmth
The release of pressure
beautiful calm
The deeper the river
The weaker the flow
I am not sorry
to see the life go
I sink into the current
I let my head slip
I give up the trying
I am losing my grip
Don't save me this time
Just let me go
to ride the red tide
as the river flows.
Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.
T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Next | 1 | 10/07/2009 |
| Pascal's Wager | 0 | 10/07/2009 |
| Death? Poetry | 2 | 10/07/2009 |
| Love is the question | 5 | 10/06/2009 |
| Silent thoughts | 3 | 10/05/2009 |
| The Last of Love | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
| Red Tide | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
| I am never Lonely | 1 | 10/05/2009 |
| Thought Thief | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
| Prison of Fear | 1 | 10/05/2009 |
| Soul Hunger | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
| My Master has come | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
| Shared Silence | 1 | 10/05/2009 |
| Despair | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
| Chasm | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
| Mimic | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
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