WrinklesA Poem by AmyWrinkles. Tons of wrinkles... Needing ironing. I'm tired of ironing. Exhausted from the constant force of crashing waves. Fighting, kicking, screaming, to stay afloat. Just keep my head above water. Just above. That's all I ask. My dreams are filled with warm, white sanded beaches. But alas, only dreams. No control, chaos. No peace, confusion, din. Loud in my ears - quiet! Bubbles of air just out of grasp. Can't...reach... almost touch...floating... gone...
3/16/98 © 2008 AmyReviews
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2 Reviews Added on February 10, 2008 Last Updated on February 11, 2008 |