Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2012
I visit the black cup but rarely
so I find it only soft and slow.
Drunk in the corner of the living room
the rabid dogs forget you.
They slumber, sore and fretful,
until grey peace invades their brains again.
We have all confused enlightenment with something...
a bottomless cup of love,
an oblivious fog.
Written by
SN Mrax
832
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems