Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2016
Feel it break on shores
of my face
if really bad
drips to my lips
where I taste salt
then my nose runs
and candles form
for now I am six
hip cupping words out I trying
to tell
blind living
blind hell
no response to words
it's just a dream.
True  P@ul.
Paul Hardwick
Written by
Paul Hardwick  64/M/England
(64/M/England)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems