i remember the first day i met her
she was inspired by the lecture,
presented by myself
solely, with the intention of upliftin,
she closed her eyes and began
to pay attention
to the words
as if to soothe her spirit,
along with some others within
the crowd
an amazing display
creative, engraved,
painted pictures like snow falling
on Cedars,
in the dawn of winter
sycamore trees and the leaves
have withered, that hibernate critters
shared by the homes of residents,
retreating from lowered temperatures
i continued on, Gone With the Pen
an excursion, from the path ive diverted
many times, thought id lie behind the curtain
most definite, better than death
life im impressed regardless
what the ravens keep harking,
with their two cents, im livid,
but does not pique my interest
so, whos interest exactly?
not i,
dividing lines on my road to sublime
evading days of trite,
ive paid the price
so now i enlight
put down subscriptions seem poltergeist,
Icarus flight, no Jordan in sight, trendy fisherman
get shot by Zimmermans,
the world enstranged become a recluse?
who's visitin?
the coffin, nothing more than a memory... so often mourn
happiness the reward
acheive peace eventually
apart from the world that has been torn
for centuries
About the Creator
Kenneth Davis
I'm grateful to have this gift. Thanks for allowing me the opportunity to share these with you. Thank you for your continued support.
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