Asleep on a raining night,
warm in my bed,
Tucked in tight,
Dreams running through my head
Silent on a raining day,
Cold in the ground,
My body ready to decay,
From my lips escapes no sound
A coffin made of an oak tree,
A bed made of foam,
So different some may agree,
Yet both can feel like home
-Jack Q, January 24th, 2024
YOU ARE READING
The Kalopsia Poet's Collection
PoetryCarpe Diem ~ Sieze the day "We do not read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race... and the human race is filled with passion." - John Keating D.P.S This is a book of poems I wrote, en...
