So many voices haunting him
Pushing him back against the cliffs
Along the shore of his lies
Nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide
His legs too weak
To climb the cliffs
The ocean currents
Would pull him under
So he leans back
The rocky walls
Cutting into his back
And he waits
For his poet to decide
Whether he lives
Or whether he dies
~The Tennessee Poet~
©Walt Page 2018 All Rights Reserved
Walt's Writings 
Very good post!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Leigha!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
☺
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is so Good, Walt!!!! Terrifying and Beautiful!!!!!
LikeLike
Thank you! 😊💚😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good lord…brilliance unfolds in this one.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Wow! Thank you Wulf!
LikeLiked by 1 person
To say it resonates would be like saying Neal Peart can keep a beat.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great comment! 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very true, about the author deciding. This is a hard decision to make sometimes.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Very hard 😊
LikeLike
A great concept, the author/poet has the power to decide the fate of the characters in his story or poem!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Sometimes when I start writing, I have no idea where it will go. This just kind of came to.me and it worked well. 😊
LikeLiked by 2 people
It’s happened to me too, though I am no poet or a proper writer either. I think it’s our imagination.
LikeLiked by 2 people
😆
LikeLiked by 1 person
😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
From Deepak Chopra . Journey into healing. “The body is not a frozen sculpture. It is a river of information-a flowing organism empowered by millions of years of intelligence”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great quote 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person