Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2014
Each drip of water flowing, just as the one right before it,
down the same stream,
following the same current,
making no mistake to move from the rest.
There’s one right way, and nothing else.
One after the other, crushed together, moving,
flowing further away from change,
stuck in a pattern too afraid to refine.
So, down to the sewer line.
Written by
Alita Lee Andrea Powell  Victoria BC
(Victoria BC)   
330
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems