This reflection is part of Margins of the First Draft — a collection of poetry that stems from an overactive imagination and a speck of emotion.
3. And she was afraid of him fading
So,
Today
I wrote a poem
Crippled by my fear
That he will fade into the cruel passing of time
Forgotten, lost
Like my admiration
Rotting
Ten feet under
Poetry on the Margins #3 Ten Feet Above
Such a gentle feeling and such strong words.
Ever since I was a kid and knew that I wanted to write,
I always thought how beautiful it would be — the thought alone —
to make someone “eternal.”
Whether it's through poetry, a painting, a song —
when I die, my words will be here.
And so will be the people and things that inspired me.
There's more of my work:
If you like short stories I have them scooped up into one category (including the six-sentence stories).
The Nervous Poet at the SSC&B can be followed here.
There is also poetry.
More personal entries can be found at the Blog.
There's also the IT studies blog in Estonian and "Chaos in Spring" on YouTube, Spotify and other streaming services.
0 Comments