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Poetry

A daily journal full of poems of love, of joy and grief Pen enslaves the hand and paints the vast land of the canvas we call Speech

Slow

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by lemonadefordays

by lemonadefordays

October 24, 2018

Slow

My pace down to 90 steps a minute

Slow

My whistling to 90 beats a minute

Slow

My mind down to 90 thoughts a minute

Slow

And see the vast and cloudy sky

Slow

And hear the ruined silence in the rest

Slow

And hope that nothing's as bad as I see it

Slow

Appreciate the plain and gray

Slow

Whistle to my own blues

Slow

Hope that I didn't fuck love up