The word
rolls around in my brain
I poke it,
prod it,
turn it over with a long stick.
I know what it is
I match the description
but is it me?
It feels so foreign
upon my tongue
it looks so alien
like an overturned insect.
Shiny, cold, gleaming,
a good word
but a word too good for me.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry from my Soul
PoetryPoems (mostly free verse) that I write when I feel that I should. Thanks to @BrandonMull_Lover (https://www.wattpad.com/user/BrandonMull_Lover) for the inspiration. I try to update on a semi-daily basis. The chapter header photos are a photo of the...
