Stranded in a room with a clock that won’t move,
Stuck in the harsh world of numbers,
The biting, bitter, barren state
Of number land.
Dark, dismal, dank,
As formulas pour from her mouth,
Spewing, spraying, spattering,
A mess of muck,
Caustic, callous,
Unfeeling, uncaring,
Too real, too tangible,
Yet unfathomable,
Stark, sickening,
Number soup,
Sloshing through my head,
Putrid poison,
Malevolent medicine,
Acrid numbers.
Author notes
grapefruite
10
A contest entry
- Plethora Of Options by Play Pretend..
650 points, ended June 10, 2008, 27 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Math, oh what a dismal thing.
-
Please Put which option you used in your Authors Box.
Thank You.
Adding your comment:
