It peers
An underground feeling comes to mind,
buried and forgotten now for years.
What it's from now misplaced I'm blind,
undergrounded it stares up, it peers.
A feeling forgettable, not maintained,
left on the sleeve of a filthy shirt.
Discarded left wrinkled and stained,
buried it under, deep below the dirt.
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Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 26th, 2025 05:09
- Comment from author about the poem: I was often told I wear my feelings on my sleeves. Haven't worn that shirt in a while.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments3
Wow, well written with great expression and feeling… but not on the sleeve. Thanks for sharing.
Such a great metaphor and so well penned in this magnificent poem a fave
That's a well penned and clever write, enjoyed
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