He dreams of a bed of soft feathers and down
The ultimate comfort there is to be found.
Want burgers and fries when I come home from town?
Shall we get the nice beagle we saw at the pound?
You're a vision, Sweetheart, in your pretty prom gown.
This place is all backwards, it's all turned around.
Sleeping is fitful, disturbed and unsound,
For the blanket less form on the cold hard ground.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Blanket Less by Connie Yost )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- An advice, Somanathan Iyer
- Too long, too short, Pradip Chattopadhyay
- Its been four months now, Vangile Mtyali
- Word of Poetry, Vangile Mtyali
- Life means, Somanathan Iyer
- Just for vegan, SALINI NAIR
- Drop In The Bucket, Michael McParland
- Drifting Hell, Michael McParland
- Dreams, Michael McParland
- Doubting, Michael McParland