In thoughts lowly ditch

I cower and moan.

As hope glides on by

I tremble and groan.

A pocket of Hope

Holds me awhile

Then bursts it’s own bub-

Ble to continue my Trial.

Published by

The Sleepcoat League

Armchair anthropologist, sometime scribe, freelance philosopher, amateur artist, part-time poet, musical maven, alliteration aficionado.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s