Leo’s Poem – 100 words

There is a poem that begins with the phrase, “The cool air on my skin is the sadness of a touch unrealized.” Unfortunately that is the only line worth repeating. The first line came to Leo, the poem’s author, intact one cool summer morning. He drove himself insane trying to find more words the equal of the opening line, but failed. For years he failed, finally giving up and publishing the poem. The critics tore him apart. He lives in his parents basement now and watches the feet of passers-by through the tiny slit of a window. Waiting for death


Author: Tom
Writer, cyclist, RVer, etc.