PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I wrote a poem,

I let it burn,

turned to ashes,

like my fathers ern,

Left unheard like his last words,

forgotten and mistaken was my last turn,

fire ablazed within my eyes,

my uncle, and family, they began a lie

How'd he die? i once asked,

secrets hidden behind their dark mask,

i let it be for years to come,

until curousity began at once,

Secrets were no more for this new face,

her fathers wisdom she was soon to embrace,

overdose was to all of her knoweledge,

she made a word, and kept her promise,

She dug up his oldest poem,

about a blue eyed snake, who wrecked his home,

heroicly she added on,

words of wisdom from the golden one,

She though long and hard about each word,

make sure her fathers story was truely heard....