HeadacheA Poem by BlakeA first attempt at poetry after a tedious day.Frustration boils Daily toils Tranquility soiled. Head wrought Battles fought Can you not? Wavering will Pop a pill Hurting still. Few more Lost war Like before. Sirens call Ending drawl Body falls. © 2014 Blake |
StatsAuthorBlakeHarlan, KYAboutI'm an academically successful sophomore in high school with talent, pent up emotion, and time salvaged from procrastination. Most things I post here are products of bursts of muse and inspiration, as.. more..Writing
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