Sensations Poem by soren Barrett

Sensations

It is not just metallic but the taste of rust on my fingers
It is not only dust but the smell of must that lingers
The rough touch of cutting black corroded steel
Red flowing blood warm rivulets droplets to feel
Drips echo hollow ripples on a concrete floor
A hot cast iron stove glowing visions of the poor

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success