Today I heard the sound of sadness
A mist of clinging self pity, perhaps in the wind
And in the sound a quality of madness
And an echo touching so many of mankind
A trio of graces, of sound, thought and feelings
Which is not strong enough for healing
Just the grey dawn and the strangled feeling
That once started covers all oceans of meaning
What triggers this whirlpool of troubled thought?
Did the prickly tears; stem, and trickle for nought
Was the choking sob a wish to create
Or was it a look in the void
That early morning brought
Linda M Breeze
Copyright@
very good Linsa you got the idea.
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