Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2015
There is an ache in my hands
an itch in my brain
the fluid is flowing
round and round
faster and faster to a sudden stop
and it all come slipping and crashing out of the sides
a mess everywhere
nobody is here to clean it up or pick up the pieces
go on
simple random thoughts coming to my mind spontaneously some how to try and make this poem make sense... it doesn't
Clara the Clairvoyant
Written by
Clara the Clairvoyant  23/up above
(23/up above)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems