Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2020
It must be the nights that run into each other
or the days that pass by me when I can't be
bothered to dress,
there are too many reasons to reason with

and
I walk away from them all.

Someone asked me the other day,
what was I doing now?
I replied,
'gone Buddhist and bought some yaks,
making cheese which I sell to the
Trappist monks'

that didn't impress them,
so glad
that I never dressed then,

things will change
or I will,
not sure which is my will
yet.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
42
     Hafsa, Andrew Crawford, Riz Mack and Rupal
Please log in to view and add comments on poems