Reflections in glass tell a story Words fall to the floor in clusters Only a few survive and are heard Alone but searching Dreaming with one eye closed Floating above tears but close enough to hear them fall Wanting to reach out but afraid of that cold sting of a slapped hand So many hours, so many breaths So many moments that unfold with what we don't expect Is it still a race if you a run alone? I walk to the edge and stare down. I don't know.
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Posted: Oct 2013
About this poem:
Bored sitting in a library. Love the challenge to write something on the fly. So if you ladies want me to write a song about you let me know.
DBASS Poetry (1)