waiting to be let out
they are eager, overly so
often they bang around, demanding,
gasping for a breath of their own
othertimes, I have to drag them out
search for the right word
they hide from me
I know what i wish to say
but we are in an endless game of hide-and-seek
"come find us" they giggle
and I get lost inside the corridors of my soul
wind up spending hours inside my memories and dream
I forget why I entered
and the words grow weary of our game
there are thousands of unwritten poems
sitting, lonesome, in old dusty rooms
like a once beloved but forgotten book
hoping to be re-discovered
2 comments:
I like this one the best.
Thanks Billy!
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