Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2013
You hate me with love,
And yet, and yet
It seems the heavy is the latter.
But how can I tell when you wear green
In a forest of pines.
The see-through skies,
confined by miners' windbag,
leads a thoroughbred
to a puddle
of muddy sand.
Do you, darling,
Understand?
Written by
J McDevitt
720
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems