Thoughts

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Thoughts

My final breath delivers a devastating blow,
Ghostly eyes look down upon all that they have known.

Me, myself and I have stood
Upon a broken bow,

Filled with broken hopes and dreams surviving until now.

And as I lay here,
dying slowly,
Breathing lightly,
Lying lowly.

I think of thunder
That pounds the sky

Things that will rage on
once I die.

And as my mind searches for a number,
my desires sek an everlasting slumber.

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Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

TheBean’s Poems (21)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Pain 0
Storm 1
Existance 1
Bleeding 0
Drowning in Love 0
Sunset, Twilight, Night/ It Will Rain 0
Silence of a Soul 2
Pride 0
Thoughts 0
Fear 0
Love 0
Heaven 0
Guilt 3
Sisters 0
Love as you wouldn't think of it 3
Confusion 2
Roses 1
Thunderstorm(
haiku)
2
White Tiger 2
Mighty Mountain 0
Sunset 1