Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2020
My thoughts whip up like egg white
into a frothy foam.
Unbridled by my sleeping mind
away from me they roam.

They gallop β€˜cross my vision,
and frolic β€˜round my head.
A restful night I will not have
until I’m good and dead.
Claire Gordon
Written by
Claire Gordon  19/F
(19/F)   
50
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems