Tuesday, March 6, 2012

#3 Bottle

A thread of thought
A glint of hope
A simmer of anger
A wishful dream

Strands of colour
Grains of soil

Always filling
Yet so draining

Another strand
Make room for more
Brimming over
Bubbling noises

Pour it out
Pressure is high
No one hears it
Don't let it break

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