David Kowalczyk - December
PoemHunter.com
2014-11-07
Views 1
Imagination
running on empty.
A gray breeze
blows cold as sleep.
A black wind
cuts deep as death.
A table of drunks
smash their glasses
against imaginary walls.
The sum of the
dreams slipping through
the holes in my soul.
David Kowalczyk
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/december-19/
running on empty.
A gray breeze
blows cold as sleep.
A black wind
cuts deep as death.
A table of drunks
smash their glasses
against imaginary walls.
The sum of the
dreams slipping through
the holes in my soul.
David Kowalczyk
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/december-19/
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