Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 8
like a ghost, it pulls your head back,

breaks each peaceful lull it ever had,

like a marionette,

painfully obeying the lines,

without a voice to answer the crimes.

your brain, fairly weathered,

tying stones to your legs,

so that you might feel better,

but there is nothing quite soothing,

like your life turned into letters.
charles
Written by
charles  31/M
(31/M)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems