Flood: Years Of Solitude Poem by Dionisio D. Martinez
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Flood: Years Of Solitude
To the one who sets a second place at the table anyway.
To the one at the back of the empty bus.
To the ones who name each piece of stained glass projected on a white wall.
To anyone convinced that a monologue is a conversation with the past.
To the one who loses with the deck he marked.
To those who are destined to inherit the meek.
To us.
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: alone
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4/26/2024 7:12:58 AM # 1.0.0.1119
