Sometimes she speaks
Others...
Don't listen to her
How she doesn't know
What she says
Before...
She thought
They could hear
Her thoughts
filled with speech a-
loud voice
You could tell...
Image credit User:Zmaj, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sometimes she speaks
Others...
Don't listen to her
How she doesn't know
What she says
Before...
She thought
They could hear
Her thoughts
filled with speech a-
loud voice
You could tell...
Image credit User:Zmaj, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
Before I arose the tangerine sunrise squeezed its citrus air through my bedroom window dripping fresh pulpy nectar of a new day onto the co...