Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2018
As I almost begin to tremble again
A blistering call erupts my thoughts.
“Come down around your block
And bring a broomstick and a helping hand.”
Wanting to remain I hesitate,
But I go anyway.
There I see
A mother and a child,
Waiting to paint the city with equally blistering imagery.
So we flooded the walls with watercolours
And flooded the houses with noise,
Then when saying goodbyes
They tell me:
“Call us if you think you'll tremble again.”
Written by
Kristaps  18/Cisgender Male
(18/Cisgender Male)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems