Rising From the Nonchalance
It’s the morning waking
Rising from the nonchalance
That I miss the most
Even those that were cold
And so snowy I would get wet feet
Those that were freezing cod
With the wind what ran right through my jacket
Those ones just vomitus
Or when my body demanded it was too
Early making me go back to sleep
What I found here was another me
Who missed mornings of not here
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
