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Two tickets to Timbuktu please,
And leave my bags here.
Come on, take the money;
"Is it much longer?" asks Fear.
Two pails of saltwater,
And a burning red glare.
"But why are you crying?"
Just ignore me, beware.
Two hands, one frail shackle,
Oh, and cover that mouth.
"Why are you so bothersome?"
The train must go south...
"But why does it matter,
Which way you must go?"
I must get away from here,
This taken life do I owe.
— m.y.
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Cryptomnesia | a 2022 collection of poetry written by Morigan Young
PoetryA simple collection of poetry curated by moi. Derived by the depths of my Poetizer account. Written from the heart, polished by the soul. That being said, please, read and enjoy! - "The writer has such a unique and creative way of putting their inne...
