Drip. Drip. Drip.
Leaking through limestone, puddles on the floor.
The masses lay soaked, tossed down below.
Hunger in the darkness, nothing left to do.
Little pockets, bursting at the seams,
Overflowing through the tunnel.
Blood-curdling screams, the Watcher and the banshee;
Lingering every night, keeping guard until the end of time.
Patters up above, bustling to and fro,
Commotion always above, life overrun.
The Great Divide.
A bridge for the rich, a death sentence for the poor.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Compilation
PoetryA portfolio of poems that I did for my 2nd year Poetry Creative Writing coursework.
