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A Poem in Progress

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I stare straight into the sun 
a rock doesn't in the river run 
unlike the witch 
I sink like a stone 
unknown 
cold 
alone 
as in the beginning 
numb 
to my existence 
lost 
in oblivion 
a round a square 
to triangle crowned 
no coming back 
the clown drowns 
there is no sound 
out in the clouds
upside down 
hanging on a frown 
my colour fogs 
to a clay like brown 
I whistle for the hoot 
but nothing comes 
the owl abandons 
moody and blue
I only play to lose...

©JM.Cole

Freewriting

◄ Red

Poem in Progress B (explicit) ►

Comments

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David Taylor-Jones

Tue 26th Sep 2017 09:25

I loved this one right from 'a rock doesn't in the river run'

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New Shoes

Tue 26th Sep 2017 07:11

awesome and gave a good smile

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