Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2021
Intrusive
My mind is whirling, it is racing.

Is it fixable, treatable?

So much pain unanticipated.

Whilst most have umbrellas, I am made to walk in the rain.
Written by
Nyssa
  251
     --- and The Sick Red Carnation
Please log in to view and add comments on poems