The blurred faces of friends
All reaching for their ends
I grip the pencil in my hand
Get into their heads and understand
The old ones want to be remembered
My grip on them is slipping away
Like zombies, being dismembered
And the only cure is to write them away
YOU ARE READING
The Dark Link
PoetryPoems. Some for my friends, some for my love, some for my enemies, and some for perfect strangers.
