Pulp

We march over paper mountains

White ruffles of our dreams

Scrunching underfoot

Clear and bright

They soften with every tear drop

And naught but pulp survives

Advertisements

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this......please leave a few lines..

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s