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"
Comments on "After All"
Log in to post comments.
-
On Wednesday, October 24, 2018, Jonas Robinson
(867) wrote:
You coined up a bunch in such a few words.