death knocks

Death knocks

 I’m stuck in the bog land of poetry

 Trying to make a small manuscript of thirty pages.

 I have reached 29 pages, but all seems so futile

Words I have written before keep cropping up

I can’t endlessly repeat myself.

A doctor visit at the hospital was not uplifting

I’m trying to shake off the depression hanging over me

Dark clouds are blocking the sun, and it is cold

The future is bleak nothing to look forward to

My wife is ill, so I’m stuck here when I want to go home

To my village, I Algarve.

The dream is to go home and die where I was reborn

Remembering my dog and the long walk we had.

 

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the tower of hope ►

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poemagraphic

Fri 21st Feb 2020 15:20

Jan write on my friend... the doors of perception and perspective will open up your mind to infinite possibilities'

The cover is not closed yet.

I am sure you will find solace within your heart

Holding you in my thoughts
Po

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