I write.
Waking, eyes still static, blurred and hazy
I write
Breathing, gentle caress of oxygen fills my lungs
I write
Stretching, vying for the dawn’s cascade of light
I still write.
I exist, I interact.
Always writing.
.
👁 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.