leaving north surrendering soul,
vulnerable disarray caged worn.
disguised as thorn sweats over,
and in tears, she flows river ashore.
the truth is she cries silence sleeps,
yet wakes like chirping birds at six.
okay, she'll be there as one be two,
okay, she's not there as dare to you.
and the sky turned something pink,
the click you hear as taken by a whip.
and as night falls, no one hears,
the sound made by lovely tears.
she cries like a thousand rings,
and i bet, you didn't even bring,
the walls made by shyness bling.
YOU ARE READING
Wandering Through Poetry
PoetryPoetry because the essence of our life depends on it. note: these are actually the poems i accumulated for the past 3 years.
