Grateful
Its night again and am here noting every shape the cloud makes. Today is different l have been searching for the man in the moon, the pretty star that winks at me every night l feel alone and leaves me smiling in relief. It seems the beetles have gone to sleep and the crickets dumb. With every movement my diaphragm makes and having lost count of this breath l am grateful for the days l thought were the worst.
👁 4💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.