Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

Home Following Inbox Notifications

Read

Read Lifted Feeds Hearted History My poems New poem

Explore

Explore Orbits Words Tags Classics

Log in

0

Stars

0

Embers

0

Alerts

0

Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

Home Following Inbox Notifications

Read

Read Lifted Feeds Hearted History My poems New poem

Explore

Explore Orbits Words Tags Classics

Log in

0

Stars

0

Embers

0

Alerts

0

Inbox

333

In some corner;

I hid you.

Your face.

Or what I thought

was your face.

Just around the corner.

From your corner.

I dug up a hole;

burnt three hundred

and thirty three

pictures.

I used to laugh;

three past midnight -

Oh, I thought -

I used to love.

It's easy -

like taking a breath;

to forget -

three hundred and thirty

three footsteps;

within a puddle

of white smoke.

It's a foggy day,

in July -

Like faking your

bliss;

to remember -

three hundred and

thirty three

knocks on your door.

Request permission to use this poem

r

Written by

rasha-omer

Sudanese

Published: Feb 2, 2010
LinesWords: 3095

Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell rasha-omer how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

About Blog FAQ Privacy Terms Contact

Explore

Hello PoetryVoting

Write