He is half of my soul the poet says
Writing a poem that will go unread
She spends her time in a hive
When nobody is there
She told herself that her half will never leave her
Until the day he soared to the sky
Without a second guess she thought he was just in bed
The poet never knew
Her half was the new blue
With the new way to live
She lurks in the hive
To the conners and the top
She waits there for her half to come back to her one day
YOU ARE READING
The poet of thorns
PoetryThis is my poetry book full of poems that I wrote out of anger, sadness, etc. I hope you all like it
