Prose & VersePubs

apathy

The sun refuses to rise
Obscured by sultry rain
My blood runs darkened purple
Through thyroxin deprived vein.
A silent scream escapes
Through a half dead ventricle
My hands grope feverishly at
A pack of popsicle.
If only it was not tied down
By iron chains of rhyme
I could sleep off this terrible day
With hemlock soaked in lime…

Author: monami mukherjee

Poet, Blogger, Undergrad Professor. Literature and film enthusiast. Excited about both critical and creative writing.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *