Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2019
You know what?
It may not feel real to you, but
It does to me.  
Lies so often that it’s uprooted my own
Sense of sensibility.  

Gentle, loving touch
I feel it deep shivers down my back
The services you render
I haven’t seen
Since I ran Allroy off the track.

Peck rapidly with your thumbs
Although you can barely read.
But here I stay, I care
I can’t explain the need.
Written by
Richard Yeans
211
     T and Rich Hues
Please log in to view and add comments on poems