Hum

Posted: February 6, 1995 in Poetry
Tags: , ,

So tired that I hear a hum
Wherever I go
Like my stereo is on “loud”
With no input.
Doth the well run dry, milord?
Doth the grey matter weaken
And start its journey through your hair?
Your crown lies crooked
Until you seize the strength to right it.
So write it polished burning bright
And chase the Tygers from your nights.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s