death called this morning echoing thru the the morning mist bringing back memories of the bull bats of late summer. tears found the old washed out gullies of the cheeks i thot were filled with the future. the need so strong it breaks the granite stone of my will causing pain as a hammer against the nail. distant, arid, forsaken glimpses of yesteryear beckon with ever welcoming cries. life for me grows more dim and short, faster than i desire. covered up now only i know. crying out stopped so long ago amidst non answered pleas. i sit alone shaking , dying, crying to no avail. the shuddrs , the headaches, the comsumption, lost next to deaths prying fingers. gripped so tite i dare not try to pry them away anymore for fear she mite not come again.

Nice and welcome

thanks

nice poem i write poems as well

sad truth is it's real

oh by the way nice pic

It's good, and friend....we all have our demons. Welcome!!!!

A very good read, thank you for sharing.

Very deep and dark. There are so many that have there demons they must deal with. We must look deep within and pull the strenght up to grab a hand that stands in front of us towards the light. The will is within us all we must want it. There are always others that are willing to help. Good write, you should write more by writing it exposes the demons within it is the best therapy.