My mind is afire
like the path in front. I see
flashes of yellow, orange and red
Thoughts turn black,
There is no going back.
My head is cluttered
like this forest floor
trashed with dead leaves.
There's a fog inside that
reduces my mind into a throbbing mess.
Sometimes, the pain ebbs away to the edges when
I inhale this cold autumn breeze.
YOU ARE READING
Strands of Time
PoetryA collection of feelings, hurts, experiences and lessons learnt, felt and lived. A road woven in time for 9 years and continuing. Information for Readers: You'll notice in the titles, the poems run from "Class 7 to Class 15", I started writing from...
