Short poems

Cloak it.

Cloak it.


I didn’t take the cloak off.

I tried to keep you hidden.

Broken little pieces tied with an unbilical ribbon.

I didn’t let the seeds grow.

Didn’t water the plants.

Couldn’t tame the cactus where the thorns sprung themselves out.

I hurt myself with memories of what I could not achieve.

Building on the demons in a world of make believe.

© G.P Williamson 2018