deepundergroundpoetry.com
No Pocket Lint
Death takes no middle ground
I might as well be a ghost
running helter skelter
between late and early
past my epithet as I pull
a rabbit out of the hat
feeling not afraid
but pocket lint
has no place in my soul
or emptiness
leaving me half full
I might as well be a ghost
running helter skelter
between late and early
past my epithet as I pull
a rabbit out of the hat
feeling not afraid
but pocket lint
has no place in my soul
or emptiness
leaving me half full
Published 17th Sep 2022
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