Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2013
With baron wasteland for a mind,
        Nothing much ever happens
And nothing much ever occurs to me
    But a thick loneliness
Built up like a mirage--
     I see words, happiness and stars;
Nothing good... Nothing real
     But dust in my eyes
And a dehydrated heart.
mads
Written by
mads  Melbourne
(Melbourne)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems