Thought to be home bound,
Guess I went to the ground,
A circle I go, quite round,
Being losted does for me astound…
I peek around a corner,
All I see is the coroner,
In that case shouldn’t I be a mourner…
Darkness does for me make sound,
This being losted does for me confound,
Just on the edges do I like my meat browned,
My muse seems to have run aground…
HE MUST NEEDS A WOMAN ...
TO KEEP HIM BOSS-ED ....
Your light always shines even if your muse has run aground Ed
Always give me a smile with anything you write
Love and Light
Lily
Darkness does have its own vibrations.
Budd
Been there, done that, not fun at all, can relate to this poem very well. glood one.
Love ya!
Jane
Starman