Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2016
My head is spinning.
Thoughts are clinging.
Words are swirling
twirling around.
Loud noises I hear.
But there is no sound.
Try to escape this fog
on winters ground.
Find a light that will
guide my way.
I mumble and stumble
so fragile yet humble.
I'm not myself today.
Joyce
Written by
Joyce
Please log in to view and add comments on poems