Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2016
Told 'good morning'
and a squeak-grunt
'hello' reply came out my pipes,
swallowing saliva
and a little burn in my throat;
couldn't take talking
I'm happy for staring at clouds,
Happy to stare
and wish I greeted first.

Cherry burns into the filter
so I go and clock in.
Written by
The Green Swine
219
     Lior Gavra and Doug Potter
Please log in to view and add comments on poems