A man
tensely
tied to a
tired tempered tower.
With his mind
like a reticent
rutted rat
scurrying off
to cower
within the
crooked cryptic
corners of
reality .
But whose
heart is the
only hand
reaching out
of the rubble .
Still hanging
onto a
half hushed
howl of hope.
Comments
Hi Edward
Your style is unique and I thoroughly enjoy reading it. Hope is a beautiful thing. It likes to hide out sometimes and if you squeeze to tightly it can slip through your hands.
Nice job,
Tim
Reaching through the rubble
Hello, Edward,
Two short stanzas - the first describing our weaknesses, how we can recoil and draw back in our moments of pain and suffering. And then, you pull us through the rubble. I literally felt it. One of your most empathetic poems. Inspiring.
Thank you,
L
Thank you my inspiration
My inspiration was this scene from the twilight zone
https://youtu.be/TO66C1rcUSY