A Sting in the Tail
Your thoughts begin to interlock, Surroundings yet again the same; Then suddenly a cold, hard shock, As neurons fire up in pain. Surroundings yet
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Your thoughts begin to interlock, Surroundings yet again the same; Then suddenly a cold, hard shock, As neurons fire up in pain. Surroundings yet
Now open your eyes to see an old face, An old face that somehow seems new. Straight to the point, and yet without a map