Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

The Clinical Nomad

The dusty aching leaf sits
as it sings to me. The
mellow of the morning,
the swollen of the sea—
Oh! How I long to be.


Yet I will always be
an almost empty bottle.
I, too, remain.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback