Sinking


sinking

Sinking,
like a boat on troubled
waters, on a dark December’s night,
I cry.

Hollow chest awakened,
flooded with blue.
Sinking,
Ice cold snowflakes
fall on the window pane.

Sinking,
on a dark December’s night.

By anotherbeautifulrhyme

Emma-Jane, 28, writer, poet, project leader of the First Line Poets Project. My bestselling poetry collection Darkness & Light is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Pothi.

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