Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2018
In some Waters that I don't know how to swim chance of survival minimal, less than Slim

Same Strokes that put me ahead of the race, now ineffective I'm flailing in place.

The undertow grabs my soul and Yanks me down, yearning to swallow me One gulp whole. It tightens its grip; Do or Die balance tipped
Semi-literate Poet
Written by
Semi-literate Poet
Please log in to view and add comments on poems