poem by Chris Taylor
we would go outside with our knivesand carve sticks into weapons, paste mud on our…
If I must live again let me be a creatureof the dark and writhe beneath temperate loam, having had my…
everyone needs to stop looking at metheir eyes are elsewhere but i somehow feel them closing…
i have to keep on,stay glued to the ceiling,mechanical,security camera observes…
free verse poem