Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2016
I walk through the streets like death,

I meet to greet treated like a funeral *****,

I speak on the benches like a prisoner of time,

I prophasize in celeste,

I am your homeless guest
geordie williamson
Written by
geordie williamson  Shetland
(Shetland)   
608
   NV
Please log in to view and add comments on poems