Featured Post

Poem 1: A Beginning

I sat and I wondered, to myself in my head, what shall I do before going to bed? "There's not much day left; there's no time ...

Monday, April 18, 2011

Poem 186: Sick

There's a scratching in my throat
that pains sharply when I cough
I barely feel my toes and my feet are frozen in their spot
my hands are numb, nose is cold 
and eyes are barely opening. 
My vision is skewed
I'm seeing strange colored hues
and everything is blurry.
"I think I'll be fine." 
Though these words contradict current time,
I know deep inside that their answer's triumphantly true.



No comments:

Post a Comment