"Just A Poem"
The ballerina and the bunny is one,
Talking they did none.
All they see round 'em is black and white,
No shades of color, life's dull.
The hole and the wild flower is one.
It makes dyeyel's world round,
Thought, "fire within turned all in ashes",
Not concluding, just hoping to promises.
The ballerina and the bunny is one.
It was once a tigress, now what?
It's already midnight and the seed must grow,
Time! Time! Needed is your flow.
Crazily, the ballerina and the bunny danced,
Swirling and swirling in the oceans of dusk.
"If I die!" they sing to the moon round and round,
It zooms up, lights they were bound.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoésieThey say poems are the writer's identity and secret keepers. It shields them from people yet are exposed. Poems are great wonders-- It is deep and very meaningful.
