My throat is dry Trying to get the words Out But they die In the desert Of my throat -Kel Dayheart
On the Tip of my Tongue
When you only have The vaguest notion Of an idea With nothing concrete It's hard to write Similar to trying To capture smoke With your bare hands -Kel Dayheart
Old Eyes
The view grows dim As she ages What was once A beautiful, color-filled sight Is warped to a Gray fuzzy mess -Kel Dayheart
Designate
Some of the definitions I have for words Are a fantasy More than they are Based in fact -Kel Dayheart
Get a Free Copy of Lies Before Bed
That's right free! Until the 7th you can get a free copy of my first poetry collection. Happy New Year! https://books2read.com/u/mv2Kkz -Kel Dayheart
Tissue Paper
Everyone's heart Is made of Flimsy tissue Some are just better At protecting it -Kel Dayheart
Blackout #144
Damn it all, her son was dead
Haiku #133
Evacuation
Has been announced please leave me
Here to die alone
Crash
They crashed through life Not seeing nor caring About the destruction left In their wake -Kel Dayheart
Father Time
Father time's face Is rather stern But with a constant tick He looks out at all But does not see He screeches in the morning But has no voice Father time Tells a lot But no one listens -Kel Dayheart
Fragment of a Figment 