A Child in Boston
When the world turns, are we turning with it?
Or are you standing there
like you did last week
in the middle of a crowd
while it flowed (hurried) around you?
I turned for a second, and my heart
it stopped
in fear and in love
for the question unbidden from my lips
"what are you doing"
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
m2xbxh
I'm very random! There's a logic to the randomness, though. My interests/fandoms include anime, videogames, music, theater, science, animals, tv shows, and books, to name a few. I'm an amateur, well, anything at best. I do love to draw, craft, play music, and write, although I'm not particularly good. ฅ(⌯͒• ω •⌯͒)ฅ❣ quack.
View all poems →Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.