Serotonin keeps me level,
Bit too much and I would revel,
Treat me tough then I’m a rebel.
I’m the side stitch with every step you take,
The persistence of which is ache,
Treat me right then I’m a saint.
Meditation in the garden,
Hues of you and clemency,
Nothing much, no none of your projection.
Nothing much. Just astral projection.
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Author:
Rocky Lagou (
Offline) - Published: May 25th, 2024 12:21
- Comment from author about the poem: I’ve been pretty quiet on this site, but I’m taking my time navigating through my coming-of-age and haven’t really been inspired to write as much. I came up with this little poem though, I’m quite proud of it.
- Category: Love
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments1
Your old mate serotonin?!
Good write R.
💖
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