Dead Poem Poem by Jonatha Moya
Dead Poem
What will happen
when we
stop writing poems?
What will poetry become
when we stop inspiring
and the beauty of words
is silenced or rejected?
We will leave the writing table
and descend into the valley
to find new sounds and laughter.
We will drink the last water
from thirsty mountains.
We will listen
to the resounding
music and laughter
of our own dark forests.
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5/18/2024 10:42:28 PM # 1.0.0.1119
