Wilted Flower
If I may be honest,
I don't feel much
anymore.
There are things,
far and few
between
that cause a twinge in my
heart.
A wilted flower,
a father's embrace,
a lover's prayer,
the moon
when she peaks her
head behind clouds
and crowned
in starlight.
But long ago, these things
escaped me.
Or maybe I just
imagined
them up.
I see the world,
and I am amazed at the
numbness of it all.
I pray one day I may feel
the rain on my lashes
and the wind
through my soul.
This poem is about:
Me