Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2016
The trees are where, it is, I ought to be
-away from all people and from society;
I cannot, possibly, become what it is that she
-wants for me to be. Thus- I, ever so, silently
-head over t'wards those bushes out back
-with a fully stocked sack- or pack with snacks.
I head out t'wards those bushes out back- and hack
-down some brittle trees into a quaint little shack.
Hideous Aegidius O'Crowley
Written by
Hideous Aegidius O'Crowley  20/M/Upon Thee Prairie Plains
(20/M/Upon Thee Prairie Plains)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems