It lights up the frame of my window,
Casts shadows amidst my room,
I'm kept awake by the shimmering glow
Of an unusually bright moon.
It shines to much for night time;
Its just too cold for day,
As if it's stuck between two extremes,
Not wanting to pick either way.
It know how it feels to be halfway there
Then stop when it gets afraid;
The moon just wants to be what its not,
And the sun is the one to blame.
YOU ARE READING
Unsent Letters
PoetryUnsent Letters. We all have them. They're that one thing that we keep from the world, That one side of us that we never let anyone see, Those few words that we wish we could say These are a collection of poems, written to be letters Just a few more...
