dark room, dark floor -
fell through a trapdoor,
falling, falling
screaming, & calling
no one near to hear
no floor to fall to,
but wall-to-wall with fear
'cause of cyphers, who
- oh so rudely jeer
while singing,
"The end is near,
but your end is nearer,
so hold the past dear,
but the present dearer -
because that's all..."
This entry was posted in poem, Poetry and tagged poem, poetry by B Gourley. Bookmark the permalink.
