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Oct 12, 2012
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...c o r n u a...
ovid sound
awake
was that a winds brush
a dream rest speaking time
thoughts hiss
the machine drum run
if I was broken and ill embodied
I am not special
just ordinary
breathing dreams in my corner
About This Poem
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
Ian.T
12 years 9 months ago
Steve
Sitting with a bloom of continuous thought
Feeling them touch your mind
Letting them play their own tune
Enjoy, then write some more,
Yours Ian.T