LOVE was mine
less the pain
within a puddle
— the day it rained
it drowned
in capsized fashion
Humid weather
was no warning
though the black seam
— of the cloud
severely spoke
of a coming storm
::01-18-2104::
THE X in me
does not feel
so much so
that I never ask Y
Sensing confusion
the hearts of weak
clearly cannot C
Murmurs of dimness
so often that all I ask
is to B left a-loon
::01-18-2014::
 | Bridgette on All of Me |
 | passionfortruths on Continued Existence |
 | EPRobles on As a Poet I Could Not See |
 | KINDNESS WISDOM on As a Poet I Could Not See |
 | Sann on SILVER CORD |
E.P. Robles | Poetry 