Rest Poem by Howard Johnson

Rest



There you were laying
Not making a sound
I was watching you
While you were sleeping
Then All the commotion
Streaching out inside
My brain
In the uncovered
Blackness, of ink creeping
And my written words streaking through
My falling tears,
Outside people were talking
My thoughts became on fire

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success