Holding on

handsa

Holding on, I’m holding on

I see you tug through the mist

Holding on, I’m holding on

As you tug me upside down

Colour goes, you’re black and white

Give all the treasure and junk

For a moment of more gas

Needing the gas, I’m holding on

Got a medal though, holding on

About Lindsay Craik

Writer & Poet Poetry, plays and short stories
This entry was posted in Poem and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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 )

Connecting to %s