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Ian Fineman
Poems
Feb 2019
Wake Up
They're closing in,
The walls all around,
And in my heart,
Only anger abounds,
My wonder,
The whirling breeze,
It blows me off,
My feet and heaves.
Exciting,
What a horrid way,
To wake from bed,
And dread the day.
I can't write poems very often anymore, my days are packed, sorry.
Written by
Ian Fineman
17/M/Fulton MO
(17/M/Fulton MO)
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