Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2015
Hearken ye and listen to the call of the

drums, two hearts pounding in unison as if

joined at the hips, and the lips, while the hormones

pump you through the processing station of

life, and love, and a white picket fence, and a house like a

dream, which is what this has been from the start:

One drum, beating

alone.
Augustine Raymond Harmon
617
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems