Mar 28
9 minutes on the clock.
Tick tock tick tock.
9 minutes to go.
They've stayed up for the show.
For the writer to bend and to break.
To drown in their deepest lake.
7 minutes on the clock.
Tick tock tick tock.
7 minutes to go.
What a ghastly blow.
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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...
