wicked rhymes
never seem to grow tired,
i call;
and there's no whisper in the nighttime --
i think maybe just a little bit
you're here beside me
and i'll call sweet as a songbird
until i am heard;
won't you listen?
(11th April 2015)
YOU ARE READING
reflections in watered-down glass
Poetry"I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken." -- Lana Del Rey, Ride (...
