Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2020
screams and moans
litter the scape

swirling in storms
no soul can escape

and here i sleep;

scattered
with no shape

wandering the dusty
old shelves

settled in a picture
frame,

frozen in silence.
people are just a figment of imagination and times.
aviisevil
Written by
aviisevil  28/M/india
(28/M/india)   
  121
     Ayesha and Carrie Crusoe
Please log in to view and add comments on poems