Wallace Park - abandoned

by Maple Tree   Feb 14, 2022

I’ve’ forgotten how stones get tossed

After thrashing my mind around secluded ponds, just to gaze

Into the unknown of your eyes.

It’s a lifestyle that growing accustomed to becomes barbaric,

And yet my daily rituals are repeated like a stumble upon a record


It’s just dust “I tell myself” in a whisper, for onlookers dare to judge

A person talking alone.

As if nightmares

Aren’t enough,

The pure control you have over me

Is astonishing.

I’ve missed coming here to dabble with words

Because murdering your unspeakable truths upon paper,

Is better than dying alone

For people just to wonder



Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 2 years ago

    by BOB GALLO

    Your words are so effortless. Your mind is so swift and skilled poetically, that even a "twister" :) :) like me has to stop and get fresh air chasing the twirls of inclinations in your poems. Also you make sadness beautiful.

People Who Liked This Also Liked