Amicable

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Never.

Submitted: October 13, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 13, 2016

A A A

A A A


?It was the time of our life, time to say imbecile, if you will, time's gone

To end this way or that way, who can say, nevertheless, is there

Is there, because of the wind blowing my face, my face hating it, big time

?Like the frog climbing up the wall, yes, I saw it myself, a big one, eight inches?

?Like my coffee, hot and flavoring my existence, mm, mm, zoo-like-crazy

?And this place was, is, cold, cold and persistent, it's only fall, but call.

 


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