Without Meaning

by Pat Fitzgerald, posted in Poetry

Writing poetry helps my walk through the minefield that is my mental health. Sometimes it turns out something like what you see below. Words or sentence that often make little sence. But that is the joys of writing. Often something without Meaning.

Photo by Miguel u00c1. Padriu00f1u00e1n on Pexels.com
As the rains began to fall.
Waiting by to hear her call.
Like a song bird of my heart.
Where the winds breaks apart.

No more does her walk impart
Or call out sweet to my ears.  
Alone in her cage of fears   
 Alone the song bird of my heart.

Watching Rivers of tears that flow 
 From where no one can know.      
Hidden from the world in disguise   
 I waited again yet before my eyes

Reshaping fears withhold the limits. 
From bewildered eyes without spirits.
That slay the inner dragon unseen.
Without aims for that which never has been.


© Pat Fitzgerald 2021

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10 thoughts on “Without Meaning”

    1. Hi Thank you. I never expected to discover others who do the same. Writing is a way to explore and still keep within lockdown rules. LoL Seriously thank you, I am rarely very pleased with my own writings.

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      1. Control over our imagination is important. Otherwise it can be harmful for the people around us and the person itself.

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