I have been writing poetry in secret for about 10 years. I used to write something and shred it or burn it because I was afraid anyone would read it. |
What am I to be?
Because everything I see...
Where Did the Words Go?
As I turned the page, the letters fizzled away...
You know it as you lick the fib
upon your roguish lips...
She was a lone lioness, and he was a bird.
A world they would make in a blur of the absurd...
She knew she was a flight-risk
veering on a crash...
Do not be afraid of your deepness of thought. Ignorance is blind, bliss is not. |