stillness lurks
within the hollows
of such a soul,
leaving her perished-
reduced to ashes
all eroded and old.
A savior?
she haven't one,
for, her heartache has multiplied a ton.
creativity has left,
emptying the birds
from their newly forsaken nest.
one may find that;
her worrying is quite the bore,
but it is doubtful they've ever been quite as sore.
Do enjoy this little piece. I credit it to my intense boredom in Geometry, whilst dealing with incredibly sore shoulders.
YOU ARE READING
People Problems
PoetryPeople around the world. Oh so many souls unfurled. Tangled within their problems. Mangled, and awaiting someone to solve them. Welcome, this is just a pile of problems, only people will understand. -- Tread carefully... -- #690 in Poetry as of 1...
