Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash
I'm Sitting Feeling,
Bleak, unfit to haul like him
The riddled Blue Sky!
About the Creator
HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)
“ Public Diary, of an Urban Poet
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More stories from HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward) and writers in Poets and other communities.
The First Hairline Cracks
The first cracks never look like cracks. They don’t arrive with drama or warning. They don’t announce themselves as danger. They hide inside the very things that feel like power — speed, clarity, momentum, capability. That’s why they’re so easy to miss. That’s why they’re so dangerous.
By Elisa Wontorcika day ago in Poets
Comments (3)
Nice poem.
Brilliant & beautiful!!!
This comment has been deleted
Beautiful poem. Well done.