6500
1
All the water is gone.
No fish left in the pond.
Sodas are all off the shelf.
Maybe my last breath to myself.
What will become of me ?
Only the taste of salt from the sea.
My baby needs some milk.
Then some walk, bypass in silk.
I am past the point of crying.
Past the point of shying.
Cast upon an empty earth.
All the cities, an abortion of birth.
Last night I had a dream.
The earth was empty, left only me.
I sat on a lonely rock to cry.
Only to drink the tears from my eyes.
from my poem book - DREAMS 2
