A whimsical thought arose from this post, would agraphobics fear the future because the future is just an empty space ?




The future ?

The future is an empty space

A precipice afoot

Crashing waves of uncertainty

Resound behind the door

Stars burn down the ebony night

And the sunrise is stillborn

The man in the moon just digs a grave

To bury the dreams of the forlorn

And if you dare to venture far

Count each and every scar

You’ll realise it has no ending

Just repeats what comes before


...repeats what comes before





Poetry by Rik The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 508 times
Written on 2018-12-02 at 20:51

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