issue
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Maybe I am ill,
Perhaps I am not,
But the issues many of us face
Remain unseen.
So I ask that people read along.
Look into my head,
And into what I have seen.
This is why I write my poetry.
Watch him go!
The silly thing
The pitiful, puny, ugly thing
Six grabbing
Appendages
Crawling up the table leg
The shadow of my finger
Chasing him
Scramble home,
little bug,
If people were emotions you would be love, the way you look at someone and let them open up like an old cupboard.
