eyes locked, i drag
curtains,
shut..
the bright out, then wilt
when there’s no
sun out..
then room falls
cold, so..
i huddle with
the other
moles,
in cloak of
cozy..
flush with
mold,
so i poke my nose
into the flow
and let
go..
there’s dead
grass to
mow.
Grumpy Gorman
igram: https://www.instagram.com/gèèrumpygorm
Intriguing poem and an intriguing song. Think I need to check out more of them 👍🖤
glad you’re inspired! 😉 I love discovering music.
Absolutely 👍🖤