Wish Poem by Ella Goodman

Wish



Let me smell the freshness
The ardour that makes me live
I have thrived for days in silence
Wake me lest I drift to afterlife.
This mind is too filled
Clogged with burdened strife
Illusion crust, my world aghast
Chocked in cloud of lies.

Let me soak the warmness
The smoke of gentle love
That heal my scar, open door ajar
To let me fly atop the hills afar.
This mind is too filled,
With endless dreams,
Dreams that I once held true,
Now tangled lie, in heaps of sigh
Pull me back from it's lair.

Thursday, December 4, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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