andrew mitchell
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In the fog of our mistsA Poem by andrew mitchellWe are no more mists in time to the tune of ticking, our biological clocks where the footsteps in the sands are dragging anchored in the past. |
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Now you see meA Poem by andrew mitchellLike all creations Man has created, the invisible man is the closest to God we will ever get, and the author is HG Wells, believe me while al.. |
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Bad to the bone or betterA Poem by andrew mitchellIt would be inappropriate for me to say I was feeling better or that I had felt better but I had felt bad, and bad was bad so I didn't feel b.. |
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When you know betterA Poem by andrew mitchellIf I didn’t know better I bet you I would have been better off. |
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A mind readerA Poem by andrew mitchellA thought no more a mime for a meme |
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Can be sweetA Poem by andrew mitchellLiving life is being seasoned while tasting salty. |
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In the stripping, the real youA Poem by andrew mitchellModesty was your coat you wore that dropped on entering the bedroom where the bed became your stage and rules were made to be followed then b.. |
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Where lines meetA Poem by andrew mitchellThe criss in the cross was a line drawn marking the moment be it a kiss or treasured. |
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A condensing thoughtA Poem by andrew mitchellWhen the thoughtdidn’t add upit was probablya solution. |
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La guillotine memorandumA Poem by andrew mitchellI seek not your head for it will roll nor your legs for they won’t walk or your tongue that cannot speak as the basket catches you. |
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