Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2019
could help.
They either fell
for me,
where afraid of me
or looked at me peculiarly,
like I was something
they never encountered before.
One, I’m an itch
he never outgrew.
But’s he’s too old to scratch.
So now
I gotta find
another playground
for my mind,
another place
for this egg
to hatch.
sandra wyllie
Written by
sandra wyllie  60/F/Boston
(60/F/Boston)   
112
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems