Dreams
You were chasing dreams that were beyond your reach so you laid in unmade beds with bed whose touches you could not feel, which made you lie till the lies became your truths and the truths became your stories. You wear the scars and carried the weapons to tend to the heart that is no longer yours. And cried the tears of someone you longer knew to fix what is left but what is left is nothing but ...
Saturday 7th September 2019 2:08 am
Recent Comments
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
45 minutes ago
John Coopey on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
2 hours ago
John F Keane on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
4 hours ago
John F Keane on A Cut Above
4 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
6 hours ago
Mike McPeek on Fallen Leaf
10 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on The Forgotten
11 hours ago
Rolph David on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
12 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on His Majesty’s Stay Out of Hell Cards: “Divine Right” and “Convention”
13 hours ago
Hélène on Elementary
13 hours ago