irrate
Maybe it was harder to imagine than I had thought. Gold dusted noses, sniffed their way into my life . "Please forgive me!" They had said. It was fine, but a concious thought tormented me still. Beloved memories, cascading through me.
A descison yet to be made. Left to right I ponder the possibilities of what will become, and realise I cannot see behind closed doors
The End
RATE THIS CHAPTER!
Please login to rate this chapter!
NO COMMENTS ABOUT THIS POEM Feed
No comments have been posted yet.
THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
irrate, which
was posted on Jul 20, 2008 by
felecia.fgt.
This is a collaborative poem.
Some rights reserved.
This poem is filed under:
Uncategorized
POST A COMMENT
Wanna say something? Make yourself heard!
We reserve the right to delete spam, flames, or other nasty stuff.