Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2015
Walking alone day after day.  I am a regular.
The giraffes know.  The elephants remember.

The carousel and I go round and round, chasing;
Never catching anything or anyone.  You are gone.

The monkeys at the zoo could never be true to you,
They told me so.  I felt quite sad about it.
Ah, the mysteries of poetry, not always knowing where the fruitage came from.
S R Mats
Written by
S R Mats  F/Houston, TX
(F/Houston, TX)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems