Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2019
I rest with you sweet man,
We count past lovers under the sheets
Its Early, 5.30
We have still, non ******* ***
We turn together as in a tunnel.
You have had more women
Than I have men
It irks me like
My gambling Grandfather
Who robbed me of paper mills,
And wealth

Strangers to me
You friends arrive
I am weary of my childish awkwardness with people unfamiliar
Of my pain at silence and the repercussive shame.
The question
What do you do?
In the successful circle
I want a paper mill
Or to a least have had more lovers than you.
Sally Dawn Ibbotson
Written by
Sally Dawn Ibbotson  65/F/Cotswolds. U.K.
(65/F/Cotswolds. U.K.)   
165
   Fawn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems