Alone in thought...
Flourish the fickle
Fresh and so smooth
Guess what is happening
Without any clues...
Steamy the feeling
Small with it's deep
Gone in the evening
Dreamed back to a sleep...
Scatter the chatter
All over the place
Bouncing on eardrums
Then sucked into space...
Drinking the dreary
And spitting the dregs
Trudging up mountains
With thin shaky legs...
Blinking the picture
Into my head
Faces all smiling
Then suddenly dead...
No one is listening
To my little voice
I take what is given
Without any choice...
Joy Weare,
25th May, 2010.
Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades
Vote for this poem
Please Comment On This Poem
|
|
|
|
|
poet7925 |
|
|
|