Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2018
a tornado flew around my room,
     leaving a trail of dust clouds
billowing in its wake

the dust is getting in my eyes,
     and underneath my contacts.
will you be my eyes, for a time?  
     and tell me what you see,
          
the tornado didn't touch you,
          but it blinded me.
Abigail Card
Written by
Abigail Card
127
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems