Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2016
scraping, scratching, slinking
into my soul.
all the words surround my opinion.
only the whispers of others
and my ****** hand print
stay behind.
as i find my way
out of the forest
of reaching fingers
and the storm of forced change.
Callie Andrews
Written by
Callie Andrews
217
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems