Member Poem

Crawling, creeping - rasping, hacking
The flow, flows and slip-slides along
The throb, throbs and the womp-womps belong.
The flame behind the eyes fills my pan with acid fire.
What to do? Where to go?
Please, won't you let me know?
Light fades and flows through time and tide.
I'll creep and crawl and wait it out.
Hoping, ever hoping the new day will turn the tide.