I have a treasure chest of these things you call words
They are just poor relatives of mine
Me and my relatives we frequent on occasions
We talk of the jamboree inside my soul
It stalks the inner recess of my being
Only surfacing briefly when the drink is in
For sometime now I am an orphan, alone in the dormancy
The darkness smothering my flesh with its flavour

My brain is, often, a cluster of words, and thoughts, as well.
But, here you have managed to express them quite well.

Hope to see more.

Blessed Be!
Aiyana

how did you find this? this was written a long time ago.
thank you

I went searching for poems that have not yet, recieved any replies, and stumbled across this, one.

I hope you don't mind that I brought it back up to the front of the board?

Aiyana

Akhtar, my friend, I have missed you!

I am glad your poem was brought forward, and I am pleased to read it, and even more pleased to see you here among us again. Come back and be among us again and always now; we need you!

I hope you will forgive that this poem received no reply when it was born, but now it still lives, and grows in hearts both old and new. True poetry knows no death, knows nothing of oblivion and cannot there be overcome; this is my hope, my faith given breath by the glad sight of your words among us again.

Welcome home.

Stand with us again against the darkness. You were always a light and a blessing, but now we need you more than ever.

Fate is bringing our family home, gathering us together again in this our hour of greatest need.

I have found an old friend that I did not know I had.

Aiyana, i don't mind at all, just a bit suprised, please reply more.
steve, my computer broke down, thats the reason i haven't been here and thank you for your kind words,
hey hey, thank you very much