It's strange
How often it happens
When I'm alone
Almost like it's waiting
For such an opportunity
To arise
Almost as if it's
Alive
And when
Put that way
It's not strange
Not at all
It makes perfect
Logical
Sense
It's not strange anymore
It's distressing
Terrifying
Overwhelming
And like this poem
It got out of hand
And ran me over
As freely as a rampaging bull
YOU ARE READING
A Work In Progress
PoetryThis is merely a collection of poetry that I decided to start. It contains works I've completed and will be added to as the year progresses. I wanted to see if I could write a poem a week, which will be especially interesting considering my fluctuat...
