Walking Poetry

Untitled Poet
2 min readJan 17, 2022
FTU — Pexels.com

Withering Home

In the beginning, it was only a small grapple, but I dismissed it into the back of my thoughts. I was still in the city, still at the park, still at home. Life was still normal. I didn’t feel lost, I was still there.

Life went on and I enjoyed it.

Untitled Poet

A.I. Student — Animal Rights Advocate | I write about philosophy, psychology, and technology.