Feb 19
It wrapped me tight and wouldn't let go.
This beast of only mine to know.
Such things didn't exist, so I read.
But I know what's lurking under my bed.
Monsters any manner of horrible things.
With claws and fangs and a pincer that stings.
It couldn't, shouldn't be true,
And I think even IT knew that too.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry For The Lost People
Poetry365 observations and comments about society, life and love throughout 2022. Come with me on my journey day by day, as I write what I've always wanted to say. There is no method or planning, just thoughts and perceptions about the way of the world. A...
