Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
gerry-sykesPoems
Underneath the thorn stinking, **** suppurates. It throbs– pulling the splinter– pressing out the **** squeezing until the green sepsis runs ****** The thorn's scar is permanent biding time, waiting for bacteria.
0
Nov 13, 2024
Nov 13, 2024 at 2:38 PM UTC
The Thorn
Underneath the thorn stinking, **** suppurates. It throbs– pulling the splinter– pressing out the **** squeezing until the green sepsis runs ****** The thorn's scar is permanent biding time, waiting for bacteria.
My reflections my a lost son. I can't compete with the great poem by Ben Johnson, but these are my feelings anyway.
#death#loss#sad#pain
Written by
gerry-sykes
66/M
Nov 13, 2024
Nov 13, 2024 at 2:38 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem