Photo by Inna Podolska on Unsplash
“Six Words from the Target Number”
The dreaded weed
It grows
My mind’s seed
It shows
It’s evils deed
It blows
Wind it needs
It knows
Festering beneath
It goes
Wearing a wreath
Betrothed
Searching a sheath
In throes
Anguish a heath
Unbeknown
Lurking underneath
Forever grown
Can’t bequeath
Its home
What’s beneath
Ignomed
Higher and Higher
It grows
Fighting desire
She knows
Continual admire
Once known
Learn to inspire
Alone
Strength in the mire
Beknown
Lighting a fire
Flames throw
Flickering shire
Big gown
People conspire
Be gone
Shock from the liar
Sun’s shone
Beneath the pyria
Lies shame
About the Creator
MaxwellJBanks
I am but a struggling poet with much to say, and an outlet that will make your day.
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