Poem: Pain's Phonebooth
Pain and truth
In the same phone booth
While fear
Well, that's not as clear
It hides
And slides
From shadow
To light
Just so slight
It makes us blind
To what is in front
As it plays behind
We cannot confront
This other kind
So near
To our nose
We smell it not
The pure rot
Hidden beneath
The rose
(by Nick L)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment