paddy d daly

(11 7 1961 / balinasloe)

Lost


Everyone can write poems,
But few can write poetry,
That is what she said to me
when she stepped out of the grave,
spotless and demanding. A
question mark written all over
her face, Commitment, ,
Is that inside you she asked,
Never expecting an answer,
Who is this being,
My mother,
My wife,
Mother nature,
I have no idea.....

She came back last night,
smiling, in an unconvincing
kind of way,
She threw out a net
and trawled through my brain,
All she found were
Chards of stone,
was that all there was,
Or should I have said,
I Love You.......

Submitted: Thursday, October 24, 2013
Edited: Friday, October 25, 2013

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Comments about this poem (Lost by paddy d daly )

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  • Tapashya Das (12/23/2013 2:04:00 AM)

    i LOST in thy poem.... wow! painted beautifully.....sir!
    i insist u too read mine's as well. hope u'll get similarities...
    regards.
    thank you. (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

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