Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2012
The drudgery of not
The travail of unseen clot
A metaphor for naught

There must be a monicker to this lump in my neck
How much substance or material to tell the tale of this eminence fleck

We all pretend sentiment takes form
When vacuity is the fortune for all
Most feel dejected by this thought
I will take my pillow, comforter, and universes call
joe dearmore
Written by
joe dearmore
Please log in to view and add comments on poems