The man cast away by this evil age
Infected by insomnia
Does not hear the incoming storm
He sighs, gently and wishes himself a new creation
One of the God of Jacob.
But, Alas, no terrible shudder comes down from the sky as the whistling of the junipers
And the hitchhiker twiddles his thumbs once more.
YOU ARE READING
Songs for the Simple Unknown
PoetryA collection of poems about various topics including life//death//love// and the unknown. All are my own. *WARNING* mentions suicide
