deepundergroundpoetry.com
Little Slave to the Sky
That childhood ache
of not allowed
presses my face to the pane,
branches sway and drops tumble
over heart scrawled misty breath.
No-one knocks when it rains
dark clouds crowd the clock
as one by one hopes dwindle
leaving only wraiths
wishing time away.
of not allowed
presses my face to the pane,
branches sway and drops tumble
over heart scrawled misty breath.
No-one knocks when it rains
dark clouds crowd the clock
as one by one hopes dwindle
leaving only wraiths
wishing time away.
Published 23rd Jun 2010
| Edited 16th Jan 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 194
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.