broken lies my heart
my will
behind the tumbled bricks
of dreams
no longer bright
i doubt now my resolve
my worth
as sorrowing
i stretch my hand
returned
too often empty
deep the well was dug
yet now lies dry
and tears alone
cannot restore it
YOU ARE READING
Sentinel
PoetryA collection of thoughts, poetic and otherwise, related to feeling different. Not quite fitting in. Loneliness. Depression. Alienation. [Note: I will be moving some similarly themed, previously published items, into this collection.]
