RoseAnn V. Shawiak (October 6,1950 / New Jersey)
Sitting in the still morning air, watching cantankerous puffs
of wind blow every once in a while.
Daydreaming in another dimension, far away.
Suddenly brought back to the present by tears pouring down my
face, a sadness that wants it's place.
Thinking through the flow, a thought pops up from the toaster
of insight - I'm not bad, why do others think it so?
Comments about this poem (Tearful Thought by RoseAnn V. Shawiak )
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