(Dumbest title ever)


Why, Ms. Turtle, You're Naked

I will say the sun is out (it's not),
The weather (which is cold) is warm.
I'll say that I'm at ease, afloat upon
A bed of stale misgivings, poised
To sink again. For now, they cannot
Swallow me. I've gone at least a
Hundred times to speak to her
Within her shell, and she, though
Pleased to have me come to try
To prise her from that prison,
Seemed unwilling to emerge,
But yesterday, as I was drifting
Downward in my dreadful bed,
A hand appeared and I arose.
She'd come to visit me!




Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 59 times
Written on 2015-02-16 at 17:37

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