When you become too lonely and sad,
That is when you disappear
Without a trace:
Ambrose Bierce became
A wandering ghost in Mexico;
Hart Crane, probably in tears,
Jumped into the ocean;
Sylvia Plath kissed her children
And then was no more.
So every day I'm singing one more hymn
And saying one more prayer,
I'm learning to weather storms.
I love Jesus,
But I don't want to see him too soon.
by Uriah Hamilton
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts For The Lonesome
PoetryThis is part three of my "thoughts" series. Tale No One (Part 1) Thoughts Before Bed (Part 2) Thoughts for the lonesome (Part 3) No need to read them in order, just read what suits you best. Thanks for reading. Harry
