When their eyes have seen colors
Other than white
Where are they?
When their skin has felt the touch
Of autumn in December
Where are they?
When they who have seen and tasted
The hardness of the peach fruit
And climbed the river towards the sun
Where are they?
They who hold the curse
And the bellowing despair
Of them
Where are they?
The callouses on their backs, their heels and their hearts
Where are they?
Whose loose as goose
Cheering on stale bread
Revelling on
Intoxicating water.
Where are they?
YOU ARE READING
Labyrinth
PoetryPoems I made during quarantine. A poem compilation about eating, sleeping and other things. I don't know what I have created. Read at your own risk.
