Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2022
I think back to when I just assumed I’d be ok
And I smile to myself
Staring into the sun from my brittle nest of dead leaves
He would have bet you a dollar that things would surely work out
That there’d be a day when he’d know what it’s like
To be warm
Written by
Jamison Bell
  249
   Escape and Sarah Spencer
Please log in to view and add comments on poems