I am afraid
of what lies ahead
Afraid
Of leaving my bed
Afraid of what is waiting
Afraid of what I'm not seeing
Afraid of tomorrow
and yesterday's sorrow
If fear is the root,
Will it ever bear a fruit?
Will it ever grow as a tree?
Or move so freely?
YOU ARE READING
A Graveyard Of Words
PoetryA poetry collection ------------------- My words will just die without having been read My voice will only be swallowed by the cavern of thoughts without leaving an echo My stories will cease to exist. COMPLETED. ©bil garcia/ flightywords
