Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2015
I was lost in the ether, subservient thrill,
Strong from the hunt, yet sick from the ****,
Give in and get over, sharp wits and clean swords,
One’s compass condemns what another’s good book rewards,
And all former rebellion, now practiced away,
I write all night long, but have nothing to say.
0o
Written by
0o  Tennessee
(Tennessee)   
330
   Terra and Cheyenne
Please log in to view and add comments on poems