sort of a metaphor (Remove filter)
Dead Rat
Flies gathered around its tiny body,
Its feet turned toward the sky
As if preparing to continue the
Never-ending rat race among the clouds.
People walk past and turn up their noses.
The only good rat is a
Dead rat, but why?
They exist just like us, their little hearts
Pumping just as fast as ours.
They scurry from place to place, ducking between
Giant meta...
Thursday 23rd March 2023 9:07 pm
Recent Comments
David RL Moore on The heart that waited
14 minutes ago
David RL Moore on The Dordogne Poems 2
19 minutes ago
David RL Moore on The Dordogne Poems 1
24 minutes ago
David RL Moore on He remembers her now
27 minutes ago
Graham Sherwood on A STAGGERING PATH THROUGH DARKNESS
38 minutes ago
Graham Sherwood on The heart that waited
3 hours ago
Luke on Little brother, little better
8 hours ago
Mike McPeek on Coffee Theater
11 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on No Mercy Left for Gaza’s Dying Children
11 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on "flight mode"
11 hours ago