deepundergroundpoetry.com

Berceuse Reflection

 
In her rusted Ford Fiesta
she plays her favourite songs
(loud and painfully)
and remembers.

Her blooded knuckles
forgot
how to take a breath,
gorging on the choking-hearted
screams of distant babies.
Queasy thoughts
release her guts
before she wets her throat.

I'm coralled
by another's loss
and digital rain
from a child's toy, I switch
it to the sea and gulls.
I can almost smell the breeze,
but I've forgotten how.
Written by MrAlptraum (Mr A)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 6 reading list entries 1
comments 4 reads 685
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:48pm by Mstrmnd1923
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:00pm by Vikky_Dollar2222
SPEAKEASY
Today 12:57pm by ajay
POETRY
Today 11:25am by Liziantus-Marantus
POETRY
Today 8:04am by Abracadabra
COMPETITIONS
Today 6:04am by DampKitten