 |
She wakes promptly at
sunrise,
as she has done for a
year and twenty,
her back aches,
not from the buckets
of water she will fetch from the stre..
|
|
I keep getting lost in this
dream,
where the desert is all around
me,to the eye the streaming sand is infinite,
glittering golden brown unde..
|
|
feelingscan never really be let goif you burn them they rise like phoenixif you bury them they become Lazarusif you let them fly away with the windlik..
|
 |
Love is slavery.Her existence demanding,total submission.Cupid's bow, her whipleaving wounds on virgin hearttoo frail to resist.Bold eyes are his gag...
|
|
The air in Hiroshima is exploding,As if it is no longer air,Smoke so thick it seemed graspable,Mushroom sky,Carrying up fading prayers,And final thoug..
|
 |
Trying my hand at descriptive poetry.
|
|
My feet are still wet from the shower,As I reluctantly head downstairs,She does not even look at me as I walk by,My mother,Too focused is she on her p..
|
 |
It was cloudy outside,The light and playful kind,With enough sunlight to make you want to just keep walking,The ground disappeared beneath my feet,Des..
|
|
Perhaps you were strolling through a woods late at night,Or finding your way through a cave with diminishing light,And fate decided to grant you power..
|
|
Great times when remembered always seem to be a blur,Yet painful times recollect in such excruciating detail,So I wonder,What does that say about us a..
|
|
|
first
prev
Profile
Writing
Friends
Share This