deepundergroundpoetry.com
None So Joyous As I
A lock with only one key.
A key that cuts its teeth on chains.
A quandry that remains unequivocally lodged in my windpipe.
A stone in my broken throat.
I sang once.
I never sing.
Music holds too many memories.
A key that cuts its teeth on chains.
A quandry that remains unequivocally lodged in my windpipe.
A stone in my broken throat.
I sang once.
I never sing.
Music holds too many memories.
Published 28th Aug 2017
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30th Jun 2021 11:12pm
