deepundergroundpoetry.com
No Name or Date Just The Time
Three wirey women
whistle a tune
of tragedy at
the funeral of a life
not lived
only imagined.
At noon the memory fragments
rode the whistled wind
to hopes bitter end,
never to be thought of again.
whistle a tune
of tragedy at
the funeral of a life
not lived
only imagined.
At noon the memory fragments
rode the whistled wind
to hopes bitter end,
never to be thought of again.
Published 10th Jun 2021
| Edited 19th Jun 2021
Author's Note
My photo
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 8
reading list entries 4
comments 10
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
10th Jun 2021 1:29am
10th Jun 2021 1:23pm
Anonymous
- Edited 18th Nov 2021 8:45pm
10th Jun 2021 7:20am
<< post removed >>
10th Jun 2021 1:24pm
It sort of is.
Waiting at an ATM for my turn
a voice in my head that is not my own
told me in a moment what to write.
Thank you.
Waiting at an ATM for my turn
a voice in my head that is not my own
told me in a moment what to write.
Thank you.
10th Jun 2021 12:13pm
10th Jun 2021 1:25pm
11th Jun 2021 4:46am
Dear N,
Oh my god. What a gorgeous poem and then the picture. Stunning.
“ whistle a tune
of tragedy at
the funeral of a life
not lived
only imagined.” I see this as my epitaph. It stung a harsh sting of realization. Overwhelmingly great write. H🌷
Oh my god. What a gorgeous poem and then the picture. Stunning.
“ whistle a tune
of tragedy at
the funeral of a life
not lived
only imagined.” I see this as my epitaph. It stung a harsh sting of realization. Overwhelmingly great write. H🌷
11th Jun 2021 2:34pm
2nd Jul 2021 7:33pm
16th Jul 2021 5:20pm
