Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2013
I have looked up through telephone wires
Still feeling very much a visceral part
Of my preconceived notions of safety
Even with the realization that I cannot look for it up there
Strength does not lie in numbers
In metal
In words
In religion
Or flesh
Those roots run soul deep
Reflecting midnight pools of
In eyes as big as a full summer moon
You can smell it's heady perfume in my hair
Catch the dazzle of it's fortitude in my smile
I watch their hands tangle together
Knowing that there is not a knot I've met that I cannot unravel
Find comfort in your soft sheets and current pleasant dreams
Expecting other's to always carry your weight
Instead of using your own two hands
Leaves you nothingbut a **Nightmare
This is in response to the pathetic ramblings of the eternally naive and self-made disasters I have been forced to expose myself to more often lately than I would have cared.
Written by
Wanderer  Between Midnight and 3am
(Between Midnight and 3am)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems