Darkening clouds
gathering like smoke from burning tyres.
Pinpricks at the eyes,
tears falling, like needles from the pine.
Sight is obscured.
Breathing sticks and claws.
Still, I survive.
Feel free.
Comments
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Nice write Don, I too, feel like I'm under a dark cloud...mystic
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Yes I like it.
Thought it was that bloke Button telling what it's like roaring round the track.
R.
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