[194/365]

Anxious Moments by Kori | Written 7/31/17

She fell sick at his sight.
The foul scent of him fills the air.
She stands still, refuses to sway.

The heavy load of pain on her heart,
Is this a sign of the end?
She skimmed through the crowd.

She’s a fleck of dirt,
In a heap of millennials.
She held on for so long.


Another prompt from Sunday Whirl. Find me lurking below:

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Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Image not mine, found on tumblr.

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