Sunday



Winter Will Inevitably 
Smoother The Summer (I)

A hindered calling bellowed across the decade,

While faces blushed at the sight of fractured expressions.

But yet I know it’s not my fault.



Cold Winter’s hands will prevail,

Biting hard at the light that mildly remains,

But yet I know it’s not my fault.



The train hosted sickening misery,

With flesh crawling at the sight of urban mess

And yet it’s still not my fault.



Outstretched arms resemble freedom,

But my coarse vernacular face is reluctant,

And this is my fault.


Photograph By
SAM LEDGER

Poem By
OLLIE GIBSON


2 comments:

galatea. said...

wow. that felt good to read x



galatea
http://candidebyvoltaire.blogspot.com

konshonchloe said...

coool blog!!