Poem Hunter
Poems
This Maine Morning
GVL (March 29,1963 / Boston, Mass)

This Maine Morning

I do not want to write anymore of my pain
I have shed the blood of my heart for much too long
And still, there is more
I am seeking, every moment that I breathe
For the magic connection with another like me
Another who's eyes look inward
Another who has stood so alone against the inner storm
I have sought, found and lost that one in a thousand ways
I have come to this place to collect my dreams
I scattered them here once and they ran from me
I have been afraid to seek them out
To find them small and hollow
Not as I remembered
Although the nights become so long now
And I can not quiet the maniac in my head
This one morning in Maine may restore me
I feel inspired now to create a new dream
To search for the lost among the missing

I will write today for you, a love song for the forgotten

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Comments (1)

beautiful, utterly beautiful. salut.