PoetrySad Poems

Piece of Wood

…at that moment,
Nowhere to be found amongst my own thoughts,
A spirit on top of myself, I was
Looking at myself a decade ago,
When I last felt my heart
On a piece of wood.

As I wondered,
The plague that destroyed our immunity,
One which made us strangers
To our very own eyes,
That which made us lose
What we tried to have
That we never could have.

A piece of wood
I once called my best friend,
Not just a piece of wood,
A refined one,
One that I regard as my resting place,
A piece of wood,
I call “Solace of Mine”.

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