Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2012
Oh, what crime? Twas this;
upon your loneliness you spake,
of how your heart needs gauze miss
and your soul calls like a chough’s quake.

No ample dispatch
has ever jolted you to the core.
Only the nitty-gritty mismatch
inside your first floor.
Dear strangers.. go easy
GauntsGambit
Written by
GauntsGambit
690
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems