The roaring river
slows to a trickle
amid long days
when rage rises up
flooding your soul
drowning everything else out.
–
And yet, they wait
just out of reach—
the promise of a sunrise.
This is the seventeenth poem of my personal 30-day poetry challenge to break away from the machine to think about things that don’t matter. I have no idea what I’m doing. – Jim
Exploring 30 Days of Poetry | obsessed with conformity
Sep 13, 2017
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