After All

By Oliver Twisted

The howling of the wind is the howling of the wolf
I heard a haunted orchestra from a nearby car.
A running grey hare hits the ground like a drum at the sight of me
And I'm over sadness in a fantasy that I once had before a thunderstorm.
A mosquito poisoned me and I went home to know what dreams I was going to have.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2018 Oliver Twisted
Published on Saturday, March 9, 2019.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "After All"

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  • Jonas Robinson On Wednesday, October 24, 2018, Jonas Robinson (867)By person wrote:

    You coined up a bunch in such a few words.

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