The Yielding
Crossing the chasm of reality,
I mire myself in gilded fantasies;
where do I look back?
I wrapped myself in flames
and burn to ashes
before I fade away
and as I brew the ennui
of the downpour above me
I wrapped myself in rain
flushing out the colors that worry me
Pulling roots and picking stones,
fragmenting poignant dreams and bones;
where do I go from here?
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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