Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2012
The beat of the wings
laced with dusty memories
haunting me as I lay in the swords of grass
as the grey puffs in the sky
release their wet bombs onto me

                                                                                        The trees sway with mimicked exhaustion
                                                                                        the sky groans with an empathetic pain
                                                                                       and then flashes
                                                                                       the light at the end of the tunnel
                                                                                       the sky extinguishes the fire in my heart

You can’t see me there anymore,
don’t waste your time
all that’s left is the echo in the trees
and the scorch mark of my heart.
Morgan Percy
Written by
Morgan Percy
672
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems