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Feeling Blue
by Robert Louis Arehart

Why should she
bestir in me
these feelings, so sublime?

While still I know
despite my woe
She'll nevermore be mine.

I see her there
with wind-blown hair
as dear as life and breath

but, far from me
as Azov's sea
and shan't come near 'fore death.
        
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Poem ID: 7821   Poem Posted: 4/13/2000
Viewed: 18673  Voted On: 258  E-mailed: 21  Commented On: 2
 
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