Email to sign up to receive news and updates

Bootstrap 6


he was lost on the highest hilltop
in the pilot seat
a country he tried to destroy
with life-crushing wrist grabs
with their biting machines

I might be a crumb you say
sitting in the audience
alive in the wind
central to me
my words paint the decay of roses sounding of winter

Please anonymously VOTE on the content you have just read:


For poetry, I recommend:

Please show me a randomly selected poem

If you enjoyed any of my content, please consider supporting it in a variety of ways:

AFFILIATE LINK DISCLOSURE: Some links included on this page may be affiliate links. If you purchase a product or service with the affiliate link provided I may receive a small commission (at no additional charge to you). Thank you for the support!