Poem -
compulsion.
I used to wash my hands,
Constantly,
like some sort of mission,
Deteriorating the softness, without my permission,
I didn't even notice,
my skin was bare,
Caught up in compulsion,
A disease of the minds,
Bleeding glare ,
Looking me in the face,
But,
Like i wasn't even there,
Out of my control,
A disease of a minds,
Invitation to care.
Support CosmoFunnel.com
You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.
Comments
Hi Nardine, this was perfectly timed and succinct and the end was so creative...I loved these last few lines:
out of my control
A disease of a minds,
Invitation to care...............
great write my friend.....tony
Thank you sweetheart, glad you appreciate it kindly, love to you dearest Tony xoxo
Dear nardine sanderson,
Excellent expressions, My 5* for this verse,
Love
WILLIAMSJI
Thank you kindly sir williamsji, appreciate your attention to this write, much love to you sir xoxo nardine xx