Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2013
Cursed by my words and thoughts of your curves, the back roads of an island,  the thoughts I think, sometimes drive me to drink, a few too many, you said I live my life off a lucky penny, how quickly someone can spend me
But when the winds of my voice come blowing through your ears will you build up your walls up tall to protect yourself ? Or will you build a windmill and power your house with words in the wind ?
Written by
Alexander Ross
908
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems