02/12/2010-UntitledA Poem by Raven Wilson
Her reflection stares back at her
her hand reaches out to meet cold glass no warm envelops it The music in her head cries for her On the outside she is beautiful but inside she has died Like silver rain falling is her melody inside But no one ever hears it She draws back her hand and whispers to the wind no one understands her but she will not give in Slowly like shes dancing her hair slides in a caress- her hands dance- they glide to create the music in her head is impossible It is a tune only she will ever know Only she will ever smile only she will ever cry because she tries so hard to show it but cannot- for She is only I © 2010 Raven WilsonAuthor's Note
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9 Reviews Added on February 13, 2010 Last Updated on February 13, 2010 AuthorRaven Wilson~~, NYAboutMy name is Raven, I currently reside in a very obscure little town near the Canadian border in New York. At this moment I am eighteen years of age. My favorite topics deal with heartbreak, pain, loss,.. more..Writing
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