The Fabric
Of familiarity
Published in
2 min readMar 28
--
Is that me
Or a melting dream
A puddle on the floor
The cats are into the cream.
Or shaded suppositions
Edges of existence
Broken at the seams
They were disappearing in the distance.
--
Is that me
Or a melting dream
A puddle on the floor
The cats are into the cream.
Or shaded suppositions
Edges of existence
Broken at the seams
They were disappearing in the distance.
Top writer in Poetry. I am a diarist and write poetry to reflect my thoughts.