deepundergroundpoetry.com
Angst
Oh, no the stream is coming,
Its blocking my vision.
I can no longer see.
The golf ball is squirming in my troath,
I can no longer speak.
The rift in my heart,
is killing me slowly.
So abandoned,deserted here I sit
on a day of love
which has spuned into,
a year of pain.
Its blocking my vision.
I can no longer see.
The golf ball is squirming in my troath,
I can no longer speak.
The rift in my heart,
is killing me slowly.
So abandoned,deserted here I sit
on a day of love
which has spuned into,
a year of pain.
Published 23rd Sep 2013
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