cringe

 

help me love the world

again -- for I cannot seem

to stir any warmth

in my spirit for this life.

the ashes are cold and dead.

I grieve for those gone --

there seem to be so many --

I live in cold dread

of the future:  foreboding

darkness, roiling tower-like

clouds, stabs of lightning

lodge in the cracks of my heart.

Reviews

[Tom]

This fine poem has a quite profound and sobering effect on the reader...thought provoking indeed Annie..great write !