The Wandering Unhappiness

It was the plague
No history books named
That hung over their heads
In plumes of London smog.
It choked their airways.
First they coughed
And then they sneezed
The doctor prescribed
Honey and Lemon tea.
The other symptoms
Fell below the radar
Only when their hearts
Stopped beating and when
Their eyes glazed unseeing
Did they understand
They had been walking
The murky plank
Between living and sleeping.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

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 )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )

w

Connecting to %s