Tuesday, 21 March 2017

Poetry X

In a hurry

Words and whispers, shouts and roots
Ended fighting with a stove
Night came late, my day was rated.
Every morning sheets to date.
East salutes, days are gone,
Deuce is done between me and some.
Time is stepping, running wild,
In my watches chimes take while.
Maybe latter, seconds out,
Ending blinded in a cough.