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Something I wrote while on the bus on the way to my mom's work after school one day...
Rated: Fiction K - English - Words: 79 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 03-02-05 - id: 1848442
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A+ A-
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This Poetry
This poetry
This flow-etry
At four pm on a Thursday
The happy hour
Soon becomes sour
And the words do not come
Stemming from my memories
The past cannot escape before me
Alone I stand, divided I am
For none can understand me
The darkness surrounding me
There's a light up ahead;
but it's blurry
Alone I traverse this great divide
Alone releasing the pain inside
My thoughts clearly scattered to the wind
CopyrightCostumeForAGutterball2004
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