feeling different

Learn more about other poetry terms

I walk on the Water that drowns Me, And it's only A matter of time Before I'm pulled By the water With its forceful Arms, I sink and I sink With my mouth
The thunder sounds different here - like a metal trash can thrown gently to the ground. It echoes weakly, dissipating sadly on hesitant wings. It’s not the same as at home where it rumbles and grumbles,
Subscribe to feeling different