Wasted

Poem Info
87 words
5.4k
0
Poem does not have any tags
Share this Poem

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

 
It was a slow yellow that crawled from within the filter.

I imagined myself in the eloquent city of colours.


I stood on a road without paths,
May the impossible live,
May the impossible die at a myriapod's feet
To reread silence.

    It's this hand the miracle of time.

    And if I can I will write your name
    To shout your design across the city
    That I burnt down

The burnt city

    The stamens.
 
 

  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
1 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 18 years ago
?

Could someone, anyone explain this work. I am an intelligent person but am flummoxed. If a poem speaks without saying what is it and why?

Share this Poem