This poem is a mess.
In a state of undress.
Words scattered everywhere,
like dirty laundry on the floor.
This poem fell asleep on its desk.
It forgot what it was planning to say.
Blubbering awake with drooping, saggy eyes.
Sitting here right now.
This poem tries to stay awake,
long enough to get out what was meant to be said,
on this tired evening day.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Madness
PoetryThis is a collection of poems that I have written in the past and if your interested then you can check it out. I'll be updating this every so often and I might take requests to write poems. Enjoy!
