Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2013
1,000 quid shoes
well, 500 each
foot
sprayed with decay
your body couldn't take.
They couldn't hold much
the stained satin strained
so red soles and insoles
tainted a shade more abject;
Glut.
Written by
Aoife Mairéad
844
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems