Desperation
Desperation, Desperation, Desperation.
She reeks of it
What is the little bird trying to find?
I still chase stray cats onto the street
Desperation, in the form of love
Desperation, in the form of pleasure
2 am on a Friday night.
The bird wanted a nest
I wanted the cat
The bird died in the storm
The cat ran away.
👁 3💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.