poems written on the fly

little black holes

In art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing on 25 September 2007 at 7:29 am

Falling through
an emotional hole

I no longer
see myself
for either who I am
or who I could be

Waiting around
for the day,
the hour

when it will make
some semblance of sense
when the world
and my life will
finally make peace

D. James