⊶⊰ ⊱⊷
Stirring up a hornets' nest; thy demure soul
A murky hideout, disturbed and derailed;
Have marked the shadows possessing tired eyes
While desperately thought of making a run
Aye, escaping—looking back with reluctance
A coward myself, I've been too timorous,
Told me to be grateful; I have much galore,
But what used to shine has now gone redundant
I tried to endeavour the feel of pleasure
But for long, I've stood and walked within the line;
Always wasting time only to feel declined,
Have never accomplished their taste of design
But wait, hult this fret and see
The wings behind the beige covers have shown
The burgundy fog has turned to ivory
A beautiful path of destiny is drawing
What used to be peculiar is now beauteous
Colors of new lurking behind the anxious
The limbs so small, unveiling in motion
As the dawn of day wakes the slumber.
⊶⊰ ⊱⊷
Thank you, Ms. Lea for your excellence in mentoring me with poetry.
YOU ARE READING
A Poet's Diary
PoetryShe doesn't simply cry when she's upset or disappointed, nor does she just smile all day when she finally get to grab that tiny bit of hope. It would be hard for her to talk about love just as simply as bringing up a favorite song, nor would it be e...
