WORDS OF THE LIVING
(BED)
It hugs my torso
It's skin pressed against my own
With me, it will grow
Resting my worn bones
Embracing flesh
Soon my body will be fresh
Ready for another day every night, it will stay
Come what may
The bed will hold
My weary head
Remembering, all I've said
In conservations, present, past
It's care will always last
The springs will sprain
The mattress will mould
As it lays beside the window pane
As I dream of fool's gold
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Words Of The Dead- Words Of The Living- #Wattys2019
Poetry#1 in poetry- 26/7/18 Every day, thousands of people struggle with mental and physical illnesses, fighting battles people refuse to talk about. I'm here to change that. This poetry collection shines a light on mental illness, hopefully saving a few...
