Tramedol

I've reached a place, a modest one,
A long way from a pleasure dome,
A little shelter possibly, beside a trail
Which runs in shade beneath a stand
Of mighty trees. A little creek is
Murmuring. The opiate has led me
Here. Contrite, it can't erase my pain,
But it can seat me in this shelter,
Tell me things will be alright, and
Pull my head onto its lap to usher
Me to sleep.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 44 times
Written on 2018-01-29 at 14:59

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