The Labour

by ddavidd   May 11, 2019


What a pernicious time this year was for me.
what a serrated dagger!
yet the assassin's hand gives me breathers
before twisting,
like rolling up
the boulder of absurdity.

I died a few times this year:
once even
I murdered myself
and bore the brutal labour
of my own.

0


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments