I wear your name like the fading memory of a cheap tattoo and as I trace these jagged lines, curse the sloppy ink I am reminded of only the regret there is nothing here I wish to keep lest of all the grief 2/10/2019 ©Debbie Berk 2019 Not sure where this poem came from, it…
Dead Hands and Tired Souls
The clock stops paused at just a tad past the midnight hour no energy left in those tired hands for moving time beyond this darkness silent and still and I am tired too but it’s a tired that sleep can’t cure neither can time whether it moves or slows or completely stops for I am…
Abandoned
Dead blooms scattered across the forgotten tombs and in the shadows the raven looms keeping watch over the forsaken and the lost here in the land of many sorrows and doom… Poem/Photo ©Debbie Berk
