A sham, a shame
it lingers.
Hours pass but you never learned
this discomfort.
Far past squirming in my stomach
I feel the bern but something lacks
the fortitude perhaps?
Is there something past yearning?
I am astride the road that winds
between brooding and pining
where the bloodline is blurring
this strange stirring,
my hope is eternally stagnant.
Welcome
Hello, and welcome to my daily poetry blog. The following poems are improvised based on my day, general reflections, or by just allowing my mind to cruise in neutral without a filter. I have been working on this for something around two years now and have amassed a lot of words. You can either go through them page by page, or check out the "Hall of Better Poems" option in the right column. Please feel free to comment on what you like or dislike, and also subscribe below if you like this sort of thing. Thanks!
- Patrick Lyndaker
(typically I will write down my ideas on paper throughout the day and I may not get in front of a computer to transfer it. So I then dump a few days worth of poems at once.)
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