flat (Remove filter)
Rich Tea
we sit drinking coffee,
much is yet unspoken,
my cup looks cracked,
her biscuits all broken
the flat smells of damp,
split ends and oily hair,
scars bangle her wrists,
focus of my coy stare
by the hearth lies a cat
of a species I deplore,
yellow paint peels off
a lone bedroom door
on her neck a blemish
coated in stale powder,
all in all, a f...
Sunday 11th April 2021 11:15 am
Recent Comments
Stephen Atkinson on Just Smile!
15 minutes ago
John Coopey on BLUE PLAQUE FOR YOUR MP
3 hours ago
Naomi on MARIGOLD
4 hours ago
AirlogRigsMaria on Gray Hair
5 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on for the Unbroken
11 hours ago
Trevor Alexander on Favorite Poet
14 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Just Smile!
17 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Just Smile!
17 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Start Monday
19 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on When Tyrants Fall
19 hours ago