Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 22
A water bottle perched
on a desk, cluttered
with papers. Old writing,
portfolios of work half-forgotten.
A hand grips the bottle,
untwists the cap,
sips. Right now,
her words
are her only friend.
James Rives
Written by
James Rives  24/M/Bon Air, VA
(24/M/Bon Air, VA)   
  213
   Fawn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems