Dec 2013
Sometimes I can feel nothing at all
Except the time washing over me
Taunting me with its assurance
Taunting me with its infinity
Making a fool of me
And I find it strange
To be anything at all.
Except the time washing over me
Taunting me with its assurance
Taunting me with its infinity
Making a fool of me
And I find it strange
To be anything at all.
(Vancouver, B.C)
Please log in to view and add comments on poems
