There’s rheum in my eyes
And the sleep has been left out;
Feeling so forlorn
And mindful of my doubt.
Before I wear my clothes
They’re freed of any crease;
I lift their edges up
And places underneath.
Close all the doors tight,
And polish the impasse;
Let the world outside see
What’s beyond its glass.
The impact of an incident
Unfolding in the sun
Can begin to undermine me
Before it has begun.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment