The weight of ink
is too much for these veins to bear
It's making my blood run heavy
a rhythm steadier than clocks
Ankering my feet firmly in their place
As if not wandering anywhere
will somehow help me be found
Just to banish the ink from me
I'll do the impossible in finding myself
since the possible won't set me free.
YOU ARE READING
Old Words
PoetryA collection (and selection) of my old poetry. If you want to read some of my more recent work, check out The Magic Of Poetry, An Abundance Of Haiku or Bright.
