ode to unwritten poems

Where do I go when I’m lost?
To poems, they’ve told me.

But, where do all the unwritten poems go?
Do they run in the mountains,
breaking free from the chains I’ve put them?
Do they swim in the sky,
and fly with the fishes?
Do they get along with the unmade pictures
and paintings, unrecorded songs, forgotten strings
and pieces of the lost humans?
Do they hide beneath the heavy burden
of being alive?
Or do they just go,
as everything once in a while…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: