Once
Once I felt a sweet warmth, a strange sadness reading a poem a friend wrote about love. His words were not about me just about her, who he loved so but that did not matter to my soul the true sadness in his verse reached its core, so my soul told my heart to stop and listen and my imagination made those words my own. Through the months I listen to his heart pour out in rich verses, enigmatic riddles and in his words, veiled and hidden well I caught glimpses of his nightmares the deep sadness,... Sign in to see full entry.