STRAIGHT IN THE DARK
Things that matter covered in dust
All that's precious becoming rust
The magical sight losing its gift.
The pride ones felt starting to drift
The roads are black , lead to nowhere
No body tries to cross or dare
Clueless to where or even how
No instructions no binding law
Yet here I am tasting my luck
Blindly moving straight in the dark
YOU ARE READING
poeTRY (Volume 2)
PoetryFirst time Poems by our newest Pubbers. Our second Edition.
