Leaving the wheat with the chaff. This is not your mother’s poetry.
that specific speck of dust in the road
from the exact spot where
we were done.
i saved it.
in a jar.
i look at it regularly.
whenever i’m feeling down.
knowing that speck was there
when life stopped sucking.
Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.
Notify me of new posts via email.
Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.
Join 485 other followers