Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Those Born Of My Seed
With tears i write this haltingly
i cannot see i cannot breathe
while those that are born of my seed
are far from me.
I want to touch i want to see
the hands the hair the honesties
that unlike flickered memories last
moths in a flame and floating past
are hosts and hosts of glorious gold
the tales the sights the thoughts untold
the did you did i stories when
you hold onto the moments then
you smile and laugh and closely say
i am happy that you are that way.
With grief i write this haltingly
i cannot cry i cannot feel
while those that are born of my seed
are not with me.
poem
by
David Keig
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black