Despite my pleas
The smoke that clouds my vision The smoke that burns my eyes Choking on forgivness Breathless with despise The hands are moving clockwise The hands spin round and round Despite my intuition Taking pennies for my pounds I cross my eyes to see you Drinking poison with my tea The smoke still clouds my vision The smoke is all I see
5
0
Robin
Writing and learning.
Comments
Sign in or sign up to comment on this poem!
Poems by style
Poems by content