Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2017
wheelhouse dark
emotionless freak
Floating in a storm
Everything is bleak.
Dancing with hell
In a bottomless pit
Wheelhouse dark
Covered in ****.
Friday morning
Never to be seen
My date with the maker
wheelhouse unclean.
Nice clean shirt
Pants and a belt
Everything bleak
This is how I felt
Rubber bullets
Bouncesd around my brain
Wheelhouse broken
I'm going insane.
Dancing with a swan
On a lake so black
Even thee eider
Doesn't paper the crack.
Who am I now the wheelhouse is dark
Ask the bench in a lonely park.
Written by
Mark Bell  Portsmouth
(Portsmouth)   
207
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems