Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 1
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
136
     T and Rich Hues
Please log in to view and add comments on poems