Painful eyes …

-1-
 
old memories …
no joy in grandpa’s eyes
as he tries to remember


-2-
 
blank paper …
the pain of unwritten words
fall from my eyes


Shared with Haiku Heights.


(’12, Dec 08)

Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

  

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