frustration by Richard Trotter I cannot grasp at a wonderful song, nor can I taste the red evening sky and I cannot hear the sound of yellow flowers, never preserving a moment of semi-contentment inside a wooden box. I cannot exist as all of life itself, and know every shining secret inhaling infinity. Instead I am a furious train without a track. 08/19/2002 Author's Note: this is not one of my best but i wanted to repost it anyway. Posted on 01/20/2004 Copyright © 2024 Richard Trotter Member Comments on this Poem Posted by Stephanie Kent on 01/21/04 at 03:56 AM You've captured some really poignant thoughts here. . . Return to the Previous Page   pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online All works Copyright © 2024 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)