~Inside~
On the outside of the Automan,
The surface was shiny and smooth.
A seamless flawless finish,
Unreadable, uncrackable, like hardened glass.
It's movements were so fluid.
Calculated each simple step.
But glass can be home to spiders,
When it mimics their own place.
This surface welcomed the the spiders,
The trip was a welcome fall.
And as they crawled through the broken shards,
Those little spiders saw it all.
YOU ARE READING
InBetween: A Collection of Poetry
PoetryThere is a place in this world where right is wrong, and up is down. It's called the InBetween and we live there everyday. Here are some poems from the InBetween
