"The pale woman tossed flowers towards the children who had been lonely.
She was the one and only, woman of giving.
Seeming joyed.
She made happiness out of a living.
But really, she was destroyed.
Her heart had been singing.
But one day,
Her skin turned gray.
Her heart gave out. In defeat.
Losing its voice and will to shout.
And even the will to beat."
-Levi B. Adams
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Maeve's Poetry
PoésieThis is a bundle of my poems. Yes, those I write too. Feedback is always allowed! These poems may not be pretty, and some may be. These poems are the plump heart to darkness and light. Red, and grim, but still beating, and now in your hand, I give y...
