I'm just an outhouse on an overpass
Full of shit that no one gives
Balanced precarious
Looking down as life rushes by
Looking forward and left behind
Stuck still, wishing to fall
Wishing to go, hearing the call
But I'm just an outhouse on an overpass
And I can't move myself at all.
YOU ARE READING
The Listening
PoetryA collection of half-way poetry, full of words better left unsaid.
