Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2019
Was after all life Hi-Fi,
Fate was deep sound.
At the word "rest"
I fell on the ground.

I lay ribs
And wiggled his elbows.
I mentally flew
And remembered all parts.

I make movies.
I don't need a script.
Shakespeare, of course, William.,
But he's a humanitarian.
Written by
Ilya Krivonosov  39/M/Balashikha
(39/M/Balashikha)   
209
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems