Time is a nutcase
Watching from the windowsills
Longing to be freed
How does it work?
Hate to say it, but I know.
More stories from Lee St. Evans and writers in Poets and other communities.
Place me within walls And tell me who I am to be What I am to say Tell me how to talk to the moon Without the stars hearing and sharing my secrets
By Lee St. Evans3 years ago in Poets
‘Wake up sir. Time for your sonic shower.” “Go away Rosie,” I muttered with a glower. “Curtains translucent,” her tinny reply.
By Andrew C McDonald5 days ago in Poets
You hear my words and respond But it's only a reflection Like the still surface of a pond Belying turmoil below. What was said will be lost
By Dana Crandell6 days ago in Poets
Rules are meant to be followed. Rules are meant to be broken. This was the schizophrenic world in which Ode had found himself.
By Katherine D. Graham5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Hate to say it, but I know.