(46 lines)
Fuzz.
All I can feel,
Is fuzz.
Blocking my brain,
From
Producing,
Cohesive thought.
I know
that,
I can
Do better.
I know
that,
I can
Successd.
But now,
It is
All,
Just fuzz.
Beneath
The fuzz,
My brain,
Is wired.
Beneath
The fuzz,
There is thought.
But
Those thoughts,
Can not
be assembled.
Those thoughts,
Can not
Shine through.
Because,
It is.
Encased.
In
The fuzz
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AN
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My Poems
PoetryI AM A PUBLISHED POET, I go by the pen name of Ben Ray. nothing has been published yet but I have poems accepted into both "Bards Annual 2020" and "Wright of Passion Literary Journal," This "story" will consist of random poems I write about, with t...
