Nothing Is Done/The Morning Goes Past

NOTHING IS DONE / THE MORNING GOES PAST

Nothing is done
The morning goes past
The world is grey and dark
There is not enough light.

I write now
Weakly and desperately
Trying to stay alive.

Far away somewhere else
I can be what I was
But now I am old and small and diminishing
And nothing I write makes me less afraid.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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