She lays on planes of cotton and polyester
All power stays in one or two fingers
Performing sorcery is not at all basic
Yet she is unimpressed by the so-called magic
The planes become steeper and more annoying to climb
She gets tired easily and almost quits each time
But becoming a sorceress is no easy task
She must continue until she reaches the climax
She can see the peak, she's almost there
Yet she treks with a bored blank stare.
The top is rumored to have a gorgeous rainfall
Yet she can barely see anything at all.
"Has she gained the magic?" You most likely ask.
Well, no, but at least she reached the climax.
YOU ARE READING
Poems Because I'm bored
PoetryA bunch of short poems written by me. Am I good at writing poems? Not really. Do I care? Not really. I kinda just want a fun way to express myself, y'know? Also, whenever I write 'She', I'm either referring to myself... or a girl that most of these...
