Slow, eye awake
ain’t going to take
no freaking cake
My head is tight,
my neck is stiff.
& I am wondering
now even if
you’ll let me in?
How is your heart?
How is your soul?
Are they really
made of gold?
Maybe of ice,
maybe they’ll melt
Then will love
be even felt.
A contest entry
- 50-55 words by creationsfromheart.
475 points, ended March 20, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Laisser les bon temps rouler! Let the good times role, cousin!
Comments
-
I like this very much and glad to se a fresh entry thank you!!!!!
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