Slipping through the past am I.
Please don't
remember
that day. It was far too much.
The monsters I think of
scarred my
childhood.
AN: My creative writing class has moved on to poetry. This is called a golden shovel poem. A classmate of mine gave me the line "I don't remember much of my childhood" and I had to end each line with one of those words. It was fun. I'd like to do more of them.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts of a Ham Sandwich
PoetryA collection of poems. If you're reading for the first time start at the end.
