This Poem was Submitted By: Tom Atterberry On Date: 2000-05-20 18:42:51 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Of My Own Creation

In this room I am surrounded by past memories pictures, awards plaques but I cannot see They now are but worthless tokens and these walls close me in there are moments of fresh air but I end up here again For the past is now all fleeting and today uneventful and poor tomorrow the same to look forward to as I walk out this door They say life is what you make it well my creation is a dying soul a world full of people faceless upon a planet now eerie and cold. TEA BV 2000

Copyright © May 2000 Tom Atterberry


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