The radio shut off
no more sound no more songs
blocked out with anger
lay still your not aloud to move
stay close to the edge
you will not fall
tilt and twirl
until your heads inches from the ground
turn to sand
a debris of failures
not quite to the bottom of rocks
but a distant spray of emotion
tied to the bed post
dreams the only encounter with the world
the pillow the only source of salvation.
No comments:
Post a Comment