Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2018
What is that sound
When I drive back to city
That droning low rumble
- calling me back
Calling me wild
Fear
Worry
Like a child to blind
I hear the call of back to me.
I feel the nonsense
Adult I must be.

I Love the child in me.
Not forgotten - I still feel me.
That’s what keeps me free

Now a smoke and a whiskey **
Written by
Figmunt
  167
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems