Author Blanche Shoemaker Wagstaff I grope in the dark,And there is no hand;I seek,And there is no light.I walk aloneAmongst the silences;They are like white liliesTopping a grave.And the grave is my heart,Desolate as a tomb. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments