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The medicine settles In comfortable pills Strewn across my room It never soothes the chills It’s the pain that kills It’s the dark that fills Void spaces in my mind When I count to ten To forget the time Such comfortable pills As my weakened hand wills And my eyes peel off the paint Of my window sills And so I sit so very still While I feel so very ill And as the comfortable medicine kills I wonder ... who should pay the bills…… |
Comments
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can someone reveiw my first posting intersted in feed back thanks
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LIKED POEM . going thru same here
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Clever ending. I enjoyed reading this piece.
Birdie
language: 3, rhythm: 3, subject: 3, tone: 3, form: 3.
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hey this is like really good. i dunno what exactly was going through your mind but i think i have an idea.
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