pain (Remove filter)
Fresh streams, Tainted Depths
Stagnant
Like rainwater sitting out for days,
Attracting flies,
Like moths to a flame.
Serving no meaningful purpose,
So we remain
Unfulfilled—
Nothing’s changed.
Entrapped
In a recurring cycle,
Appearing to be renewed
As more rainwater starts to fall.
But new drops only meet the surface,
Clean merging with the murk below,
Clear streams swallowed by t...
Monday 18th November 2024 2:57 pm
Recent Comments
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
6 hours ago
John Coopey on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
8 hours ago
John F Keane on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
9 hours ago
John F Keane on A Cut Above
9 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
12 hours ago
Mike McPeek on Fallen Leaf
16 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on The Forgotten
17 hours ago
Rolph David on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
18 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on His Majesty’s Stay Out of Hell Cards: “Divine Right” and “Convention”
19 hours ago
Hélène on Elementary
19 hours ago