Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2017
The earth had succumbed to
not a place to live, but a place to die

Oceans of people proceed forward
Their bodies stretch like taffy,
Sleeping inside of the memory's
Clinging desperately to whatever
Happened before, always before

Nothing less than madness
For time had, and will, surely ****
Did I use succumbed properly?
Ghost Writer 3
Written by
Ghost Writer 3  San Fransisco
(San Fransisco)   
293
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems