You are viewing a single comment's thread from:

RE: Letting go slowly

in #poetry7 years ago

I was beneath the coverlet,
Defending the bed from sunlight.
I stood, a green toddler turned away
From the fading fires of the moon.
I could not lift my hands because
I carried my prayers before me.
I could not move my feet becajse
Stale songs shackled lies to my ankles.
I wiped the window's tears
And try to see tomorrow's tears
But deluge came and stole
The remains of me away.