Poem Hunter
Why Bother?
DB (04/14/77 / )

Why Bother?

Poem By David Blake

Erotic Words spoken so softly as
not to be heard. The gentle
breeze carrying the faint scent of
sweet memories that are no more.
A flower so rare that blooms
brilliant white in the darkest
recess of the night. A sunset of
firie passion consuming all the
sky, only to be hidden behind a
vail of gloomy gray. Then to
gaze upon a meddow by the sea
filled with a infinite number
of daffodils dancing just for me.

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