Sometimes

Sometimes, we can only sigh
To express the way we feel
When our inner well is dry
And our wounds refuse to heal

Sometimes, we can only cry
To release the pain we hold
When our spirit starts to die
And we’re left out in the cold

Sometimes, we can only scream
To unleash the rage inside
When our demons kill our dreams
And there’s nowhere left to hide

Sometimes, we can only swear
To relieve the pent up stress
When our heart is full of despair
And our mind is all a mess

Sometimes, we can only breathe
To endure the choke of sadness
When our body aches to grieve
And our memories bring madness

Sometimes, we can only pray
To receive the strength we need
When our feet are shod with clay
And survival’s our only creed.

Wayne Visser © 2004

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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