Birth of poetryA Poem by Linda alexander
When few are really happy or frustrated
Yes when few are drowning and gasping for air May be when some one finds a way out of his troubles It may be the exact minute of sinking in tenacious mud The time everyone runs after the so called creativity It may be the time moon and stars blinking at you It may be from that most haunting thought of sleepless night Yes may be when you see the crops of farmer thrashed by storm May be the paintings on the walls of long hallways of life The withering and withered lives of many in our common paths The boy enjoying the fishing with grandpa and his dad It can be anything even the maple tree branch peaking at your window
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5 Reviews Added on January 29, 2015 Last Updated on January 29, 2015 AuthorLinda alexanderNew Hyde Park, NYAboutI am a writer and I used to write since I was nineteen years old. I grew up in a house with huge library. I read some of those books to be accurate I will say very few. I saw individuals reading day a.. more.. |


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