Sometimes The Creeping Poem by Karin Holloway
Sometimes The Creeping
Sometimes the creeping
groping darkness closes in
Cloaks me drapes my mind.
All goes on well
in Mystery.
It is Me torn to shreds blowing
softly come hither
In strangeness.
I take vacations inside -
Retract full obligation.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: self
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4/15/2024 7:54:36 PM # 1.0.0.1119
