Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2015
**** it.
I'm trying not to lie.
But sometimes wishes slip out as facts.
"(I wish) This got published."
Silent.
Crickets.
Blank air.
Right here.
Look up.
Nothing there.
Drawing
Breath.
Hiding.

I'm talking to genies all day and it's getting distorted.
Frank Key
Written by
Frank Key  San Antonio
(San Antonio)   
295
   B
Please log in to view and add comments on poems