Poem – “A Piece of the Grave” – Modern Romanticism – 1/7/2022

Hands to the eyes.
Signals to the tragedy
forwarded with lights.
We are blinded
while crying for no shoulder
to stop us.

Collision is inevitable.

Winter is inconceivable
for what will be written in
snow or ashes.

White-out in the debris.
Onward
we will not stop.
The brakes never work
when hearts do not even yield.

We were produced from thin air.

We will remain damaged
on the highway with water,
not tears
to clean away
the contents of our hearts.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s