Whisp

Whisp

A Poem by Arly Parent

These...are the memories  
watch them whip away  
and dissipate  
like leaves that have withered on the vine  
in a world that makes no sense  
    
These are the voyages  
to the place I marked with smoke  
to the place where bullets fly  
cups run dry  
and a night's sleep is an oft told joke  
    
These are the voyages...  
To the place where voices echo but no one spoke  

© 2015 Arly Parent


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

166 Views
Added on February 20, 2015
Last Updated on February 20, 2015

Author

Arly Parent
Arly Parent

Lantana, FL



About
There's nothing about me. I play with pauses as well as silence. I write words, assign meanings and junk, and play with a language that might be as much my own as another. I don't know. more..

Writing