Untitled
By Dana Lewis
Emptiness before you. The temple throbs as the barrel taps against it. Fustration boils as you fight to let loose what is in your head. Just release it and the world will be right. Barrel pressed to the temple, emptiness before you. You sigh, lean back and relax. At last it comes, what you've been looking for. You can do what must be done. CLICK. The barrel falls to the table. What was in your head pours out and fills the emptiness. The barrel rests. Peace settles upon you. At last you can see, your perfect poem has come to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment