Rotten cloth. A poem about life.

We roam the seas with paper boats
With paddles made of rotten cloth
Chances so small and so remote
That we will travel beyond the docks


  1. Nice indeed. I'm so impressed by poetry because I couldn't write anything! Bravo

  2. "That we will travel beyond the docs"

    I'm a bit slow, what does "docs" mean?
    Document? :P

  3. A very lovely poem. Great imagery, with a dark and sad tone.

    I write this for you.

    As the demons flee,
    Hope remains,
    Hiding in the dark.
    Why was she there?
    Confined with despair?


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