70809 Poem by richard poor
70809
if i keep movin
the demons cant find me
my dreams are....
free.
i fell asleep in a dream
that offered no hint or clue
a thousand possibilites
each more than true,
how i was so clouded
whichever way the wind blew
of all that time ever was
eternities to get thru,
up to this waking moment
when life itself is dared
of all that i could be
in a heart that cared.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/1/2024 3:02:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
