No relationship is perfect. Ebb and flow...
Pent
He glared at me and I at him
In this reoccurring dream
Where molten anger freely flowed
And things were not what they did seem
Pounds and pounds of deadly venom
In a cart pulled by a mule team
We traversed a dark winding road
Lit by a distant moonbeam
Who would blink and break the silence
With a never ending scream
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Five Year Poem Plan - Part 1
PoetryI am going to attempt to write a poem a week for five years! It is a personal resolution that I am making public in order to hold myself accountable.
