by M. Douglas Hoss
Poor dreams that are never dreamed nor breathed to
life; never heard nor laid to love. Poor sighs
of highest points of highest life never
sighed nor touched upon placation's sound.
Poor words that never formed upon their lips
nor emanated their thoughts among the stars
of night; poor eyes that never cried from dreams
that sparkled within their perfect flawless right.
Poor hope now rearing within our hatred's time,
bearing no clue to what it was created for.
Poor trust all charred on coals of discontent;
poor will that seeks its rise with fists against
this purging. Poor worldly calamity
yet, despite all this, all our love remains.
- Share this Poem:
ABOUT THE POET ~
M. Douglas Hoss was born in Wichita, Kansas on March 28th, 1957. He has studied English and poetry for over twenty years, and in 2005 had his first book "From Time To Time" published by the Western Virginia Foundation for the Arts and Sciences, which was so successful, that signed copies of a first edition paperback sell for over $80.00 on the internet. Afterwards, he taught English and College level literature overseas and later moved to Seattle, Washington where he now resides, working on his next three books.
Last updated April 25, 2013