ON WRITING AND RUNNING
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I live in splendid squalor
A victim of my past
Trapped in mediocrity
Going nowhere fast
A person shy and awkward
Whose trapped within a shell
Writing thoughts of nightly dreams
I live in quiet hell
My poems are so special
They get me through the day
Fantasies of future lives
They take me far away
Whatever morrow brings me
No matter how unkind
I'll always feel safe and warm
Entrapped within my rhyme

  • Home
  • AZ_Records
  • Blog
  • Poetry
    • Aging
    • This N That
    • Depression
    • Positivity
    • Running
  • Contact
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