Blame
The windiness is both the trigger and the traitor. It reminds us of our wounds when we tend to hid them most…buries our anger when we want it to burn us. Time is so slippery that even the firm oath is washed out and only the rust of compromise left to dirty the floor of our morality’s place. Hear! The windiness has started the mess again…weakening is our inner roar!
Ad
Poetry Books 50% Off
Bestselling collections from top poets
Shop Now →
