The Reaching Poem by Adam Hollingsworth

The Reaching



A note of love sighs within,
A chilling breeze blows wind to wind
Doors drawn dwell so far within,
To few to count when it all ends

Few draw a rose when they pass it by,
Down by a river where we can try
The reaching tree speaks in colorful words,
Reaching so far, just so it could hide,
While speaking sounds in backwards and forwards,
And maybe tonight, we’ll see what’s inside

Just one note to chill the heart and,
Just one word to make it start
We grow old to only be young,
It’s the song, we have all sung

Chant, chant, chant so on,
Chant for life to only become,
Chant, chant, chant we’re all young,
Chant for happiness is our drug
You see far and you see wide,
If only we could see, what we hide inside
See beyond the wrinkled eyes,
So we can chant, until the day we die

It reaches no more, and
It reaches no less
Stopped all it’s words,
For now, it’s a wreck

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