Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2019
Cells die as I refuse to let go
of the burning muse who doesn't know
My desire to boil away
By a fleeting sense of what could be
I'm fine with it if I knew
That it's not part of a plan
But of a poem incomplete
Written by
Allan  M/Sydney
   JL Smith
Please log in to view and add comments on poems