Infancy

I read again what I had wrote
Years ago
Then a darkness dwelt
In my soul
Yet the naivety still
came through
I lived in a magic circle then

 

I searched for answers
With my pen
And let my mind wander
The recesses of my soul
And the poetry flowed
Like a star almost shining
In it's infancy

 

Swift and sweet
They floated like prayers
Of a youth disheartened
Dreams shattered
In shinning crystals
Some bronze a few scattered silver
But nothing gold

 

Not yet
 

Reviews

[Starlit Scarlett]

This is well-executed. Your use of language is right on the mark; I found I can identify with this work 100%. The ending is perfect and appropriately witty. In reading this, I'm reminded why exceptional poetry is sometimes called "wordsmithing". Great, great job.