They long for my bright soul
But who is to rectify them,
It is anything but colourful?
Not black, nor white
The two extremes;
Instead gray,
Stuck between two worlds
One seizing me like a gray storm,
The other, a gray tendril
YOU ARE READING
Rosé Cacti
Poetry"See the war inside of her Of the heart and the soul Deadlier than that of the heart and mind. She laughs, She conceals; She cries, She writes; All that the heart wants, she gives And the soul is fed with fake promises. She flourished her wilting ro...
