Lost Words
A midnight scribble,
a morning sigh;
you watch the words
curl up and die.Madness lives
inside your head,
of poems lost
and pages dead.A mind possessed
by unmade books
unwritten lines
on empty hooks.By Michael Faudet
YOU ARE READING
Poems, Quotes & Just Stuff
PoetryPoems about Life and its Flaws https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08F2F9G2N/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_awdb_t1_aWpjFbZCXHZDX