Short poems

I always put pepper on my salty cuts.

I always put pepper on my salty cuts.

12/06/18

Above all else the pages falter.

They blow in the wind like a frozen altar.

Melting, corroding, falling, unresponding.

Pairs of tears cross palms where the sights of snipers leave their mark.

You can’t see them anymore, times have jaded.

The wounds are deep but scars have faded.

We sit alone in the dark even in the light of day.

Just another nuisance another grey living in a silver cloud.

I always put pepper on my salty cuts.

It may be feeble, but I don’t give up.

© G.P Williamson 2018

Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s