Lock my door with tools from my pocket.
Wrapped on a ring holding my love’s locket.
Onward to a home away from bed.
A more changing way to be fed.
I sit under the dim waning light.
Letting go of our current abundant plight.
We all carry different sets of keys.
but here only liquid holds fees.
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Author:
Jake (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 19th, 2022 07:23
- Category: Surrealist
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments1
This one is my favorite of all the new ones you have written
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