In that Age

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
How darkness flows into some ages.

Submitted: February 05, 2016

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Submitted: February 05, 2016

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How darkness flows into those ages when

It lingers among the uninvited and the shy.

Questions arise, ebb, and flow continuously.

Who am I, who am I, who am I?

 

Clothes and hair change, in an effort to fit,

But fitting is not the problem noted.

Fitting in is the elephant in the room

And it stands alone, swaying from side to side.

 

Drones hovers within the mind

Bellowing sounds far less shy,

But the whispers sound even loader.

Who am I, who am I, who am I?

 

02-05-2016

 


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