Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2014
Words seem regurgitated of late
This is not a place for healing
There is no welcome mat to wipe your so(u)le
Welling up with an emotion that feels very foreign
One I chose to not get on a first name basis with
Yet I hear it
Broooooook
Whispering across my flesh
Sewing it's shadow to my already heavy heart
Wanderer
Written by
Wanderer  Between Midnight and 3am
(Between Midnight and 3am)   
556
     mike dm, Wanderer, Timothy and NuurSeraph
Please log in to view and add comments on poems