Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2011
Hope grasped him in hot arms,
and whispered,
 
 
Either, I’ll fly away in fits of laughter,
 
Or I’ll leave you here,
Bloodied, on the floor.
 
He cried back,
 
it didn’t matter anyhow,
 
The seconds are infinite
Until you do.
Written by
Robert James
429
   Feeler and Leanna Taylor
Please log in to view and add comments on poems