Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2014
I have a problem
with looking back at my past
and keeping that path.

I choke excuses.
My discontent is my friend.
He won't let me go.

But that isn't true.
My fingers are tight like a
vice grip round his wrist.

Want to sweeten it,
say "in sickness and in health."
but it's all sickness.
Written by
Marianne Engel
414
   Manny
Please log in to view and add comments on poems