Poetry For Everyday People
Pain Of Your Past
We stand
at the dishwasher
dancing with our pain
pulling out glasses
in a daze, in a daze,
trouble is
an ugly air
and we can't help
breath it sometimes,
solitude
seems beautiful
when the world invades,
accuses then judges
what they know
not.
at the dishwasher
dancing with our pain
pulling out glasses
in a daze, in a daze,
trouble is
an ugly air
and we can't help
breath it sometimes,
solitude
seems beautiful
when the world invades,
accuses then judges
what they know
not.
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Pain Of Your Past
Pain Of Your Past