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Oct 2020
on wet wood

Black ants and poisonous snakes-
Creeped out and slithered around-
The rotten wood full of ugly desire-
As I ignite the fire.

on Shakespeare

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”
Summer of terror and discontent;
The funeral of Shakespeare’s sonnet-
As I weep in tragic.

on pouring rain

Sunday is in silent agony;
Lights out, curtains down;
Angry sky cries in vain-
As I mute the rain.

on bittersweet coffee

One, two and more of grandé
Iced-cold caffeine in my blue vein;
Hands are still, the world’s unstirred-
As I sip the last drop of despair.
This is the third part of my poem. Read "The Prologue" first, followed by "The Encounter".
Natasha Monica
Written by
Natasha Monica  24/F
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