At the rivers side,
the feeling of silence.
The sun, pale
and sick cries wild.
Not caring what the
onlookers might think.
My desires unheard,
I don’t know where to go.
I am worth more than this.
No words are heard
At the rivers side,
the feeling of silence.
The sun, pale
and sick cries wild.
Not caring what the
onlookers might think.
My desires unheard,
I don’t know where to go.
I am worth more than this.
A Wandering Poet 