moon looks like a wraith,
and the clouds like nervous banshees.
no need to be more than that.
i'm trying to feed
my appetite with just the chunks
but, ignoring the broth.
i'm just waiting till
the sunrise will mean something
once more.
YOU ARE READING
Melancholia
Poetrypoetry takes us to so many places, and we take poetry to so many places. here are poems about places, and sometimes the people found in them.
