The chilly smell;
Freezing are my ears.
The dogs barks,
Ghouls are clear.
An aeroplane's thundering sound,
Covering the barks...
In between,
But now again,
It's too silent,
The swirls can be heard.
Whirls!
W h i r l p o o l s -
so audible.
Inside it's swirls,
Mess...hue.
Err1585
Ritika
YOU ARE READING
Atypical
PoetryDistorted Poetry. Another poetry book written with a "schizosanic" brain and heart filled with love and inches of white. #491 in poetry ❤
