The wind sings-
she gathers stories, whispering tales of people lost long ago.
she tells them to me
but I forget as soon as she is gone.
lost tales
More by ominouspoet
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Greek Tragedies
oh Icarus, you poor thing.
fell in love with the sun, the sky-
paid the price, i suppose.why do we always pay the price for love?
Orpheus, lonesome poet,
lost his love because he wanted to tell her they'd made it. -
Where I Keep My Heart
In my attic I keep my heart.
I hold it there, safe amidst pillows, blankets and childhood stuffed animals.
When I make things, I break off a piece of my heart,
and sew it into pillows, -
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