A Snippet Poem by Anemone Flynn
A Snippet
The air hangs thick as treacle,
Yet no scent can I discern.
My lungs for breath do labor;
I feel the oxygen burn.
There is no fire or sulphur -
No clinging fetid mold.
I'm merely trying to portray
For you my lamentable cold!
2007 Idaho
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Poems By Anemone Flynn
Best Poems
Best Member Poems
Best Classical Poems
New Poems
New Poets
Best Member Poets
Best Classical Poets
Explore Poems
Explore Poets
Poem Of The Day
Love Poems
Baby Poems
Death Poems
Sad Poems
Birthday Poems
Wedding Poems
Nature Poems
Sorry Poems
Hero Poems
Poetry E-Books
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/7/2024 5:07:33 AM # 1.0.0.1119
