Annealing Poem by Howard Mcdougal
Annealing
No words can a brush
Bring to paint
Hops that tary
Works in mysterious vain
Search the depths
Pains ceaseless
Desires
Cries heard from a cornor
Tried to hide
Distance hope
Carved with pen
Strokes in stride
Quickly silence called
Free and gone
The noise inside
I let it go...
Monday, September 7, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: hopelessness
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Quick write
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5/1/2024 9:41:14 AM # 1.0.0.1119
