Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah


The brood is forever moody.
Counterintuitive to collective goals.
It is a sobering experience
that holds me to ransom.

Calculated hexes, trained
in a misnomer of the salubrious.
How fortunate I no longer
Need to appease them…

  • By Sarah ©2018
  • Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Wordle #214

    2 thoughts on “Misnomers”

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