Inked
Needle to the skin
Instead of a blade
Temporary fixes
With permanent scars
Paint a pretty picture
I’ll put it on my arm
Friday 13th December 2019 4:58 am
Nothing
A burning flame
used to shine so bright
Until it blew out one night
Wick drowning in hot wax
The last of the smoke evaporates
Sitting on the shelf collecting dust
Friday 13th December 2019 3:43 am
Recent Comments
Nigel Astell on June 2025 Collage Poem: You Watched the Trains Come, You Watched the Trains Go
3 seconds ago
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
4 hours ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
20 hours ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
21 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
1 day ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
1 day ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on The Policemen Arrest The Men.
1 day ago