it was the residence of my
disillusionment.
it was the era when I grasped, caught nothing.
it was the start of my fall
from grace. my slipping into space,
racing then waking
to lose myself.
chasing and aching, glaring
at your ghost.
it was the home of lost hope.
it was my home of lost
hope,
lost hope.
By Sara Pufahl
To read more of her work visit The Shores of My Dreams
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The writers showcased on this site are all members of Brand New Aspiring Writers at Yahoo Groups.
2 comments:
Sara, I like this; it evokes the mood you are writing about so well, and so simply.
Thanks,Ray! I love hearing how a person interprets my work and knowing if I got across the meaning I was hoping to.
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