poems written on the fly

winter blues (or what not to do with a gun)

In art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, snuff poems, writing on 25 January 2008 at 7:53 am

Cold seeps
through cracks
in the unfit
windows

A distant memory,
the sun, hides
in dark cotton

Life bleeds out
on dirty linoleum
and I can’t
feel my feet
anymore

(D. James)

  2. You are an amazing writer !!!

    Reply
    mee mOe 25 January 2008 at 10pm