NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-Five, Poem Twenty-One
Begin
No time
like past
wich for
good thing
what works
right foot
leaves no
prints
wrong way
leaves divets
ankle finds
in dark
on your
bruise mark
head start
you cant
associate
freely
forever
ready
set to fail
get judges
onside
last chance
gate open.
No comments:
Post a Comment