spinal run

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spinal run

the pain,
was not pain,
in the main,
till it climbed the spine,
and ran up there in mind,
it hit a spot ,
and from there distributed it got,
it was only then pain made him whine.

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Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

ecrit’s Poems (11)

Title Comments
Title Comments
what I chewed last night 0
I know not who I am 0
this poor star called sun. 0
bright sun 0
Green 0
spinal run 0
solitude talk 0
The Cage I am in 1
Departure Pangs 2
Ascent to Heaven or Heaven's Descent 1
Aromas of her bake 0