Dear time, Where art thou?
For I am chained to your ways
Deafened by each tick
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Steelo Chris and writers in Poets and other communities.
Her eyes are silent beauty glazed by rays Orange embers of my mind burn with pain As the journey leads to peace, better days
By Steelo Chris5 years ago in Poets
sit in the doorway peach trees foretelling their bloom last year’s jam on toast * I wait for the peach trees to bloom. The buds are swelled and fuzzy, a soft pale green.
By Natalie Wilkinson6 days ago in Poets
Last night I had the picture of you beside me on my bed, as I lay my burdens at the "FEET" of the person sitting next to me !?
By 365poetry2 days ago in Poets
As the students of my 10am mythology class take their seats, I decide to steer the day's curriculum away from Greek and dive into a Western European discourse on the misaligned beliefs of the Werewolf. A tale of truth or fiction. No one really knows.
By Lamar Wiggins5 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.