I never knew her
So why did it hurt to suddenly know
That she was gone?
Crushed beauty
Shattered youth
Sad day
I never met her
So why do I feel this aching space
Now she is dead?
Snuffed flame
Amputated life
Sad day
I never knew her
So why am I writing this poem
To remember her by?
Soulful eyes
Uplifting smile
Sad day.
Wayne Visser © 2005
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.