Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2015
I look up...fall under
depth is shrinking
strip apart into string
touch it....so cold

I beg for sound
when I wake
honor is still cheap
time stops convulse again

These scabs, some shine
blind as the sun
I want to touch the sun
pride is reborn

Kicked to the ground
fit to the ground
this mud is mine
this mud is all mine
Matthew Walsh
Written by
Matthew Walsh  United States
(United States)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems