LanguageEnglish

Sleeping Man

Item: Sleeping Man
Rating: 5
Author: Dru Free

Dru FreeMarch 6, 2018

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Rate this poetry

Sending

User Review

5 (3 votes)

Sleeping Man

written by: Dru Free

@Dru131

Those nights seem kind starry rayed eyed rebellion your embrace is the revolution of forever and today kept me warm curled up close in front of turned off TVs for we don’t watch anymore and there is nothing on anyway withered guitar songs to give away burdened heart to unload on your doorstep not sure of my thoughts or place in this world of drifting appearance top notch permeating dreams in a skull of a sleeping man

©drufree

About
Latest Posts

Dru Free

Have been writing poetry since I could remember. Live in Canada and enjoy reading, running and arguing with my dachshund.

Latest posts by Dru Free (see all)

Sleeping Man - March 6, 2018
Me, We and Be - March 10, 2017

Phyllis P. Colucci

Phyllis P. Colucci is a freelance/indie author from Brooklyn, New York. She is currently retired from a Supervisory Administrative position with a Federal law enforcement agency in New York City, and is now pursuing her passion for writing fiction and poetry. She has always had a love for writing over the years, whether it be poetry, short stories or novels; and mystery and suspense is something she has recently gravitated towards with a touch of romance and that "New York edge". Phyllis has three novels, one novella and an Anthology of original poems currently on the Amazon market, and continues to be part of the Spillwords writing community by sharing/contributing her fiction and poetry on a monthly basis. She also has a writing blog under the name of "FictionTarot" where she hopes to entertain readers, take them on journeys page by page - and perhaps make a difference with a blog.

Bodies In The Basement by M. Taggart

It was a crisp, damp, October night.
“When we get to the Church I’ll go down first.” Colin was thinking of the moment when both he and Aaron would be standing at the top of the basement stairs peering down into the darkness.
The old stone Church was perched at the top of the largest hill on the prep school’s campus. Colin’s parents were professors at the school and their house was on campus grounds. They’d been waiting for Colin’s parents to fall asleep upstairs. Both boys were comfortable in their sleeping bags on the screened in porch. The lights had been turned out an hour ago and Colin felt it was time to slip into the night ...