Was there a purpose
to wear mascara
and nestle in giant
clouds?
You scare me
holding the candle
burning at both ends.
What was the
confusion before jumping
from the bridge?
O moon, I always
loved the honey color
of your skin, before
collecting ashes.
Who had created this maze,
I will never know.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: April 20th, 2023 20:44
- Category: Nature
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: James Michael
Offline)
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