Was what I texted to an overworked
best friend, twelve minutes after three, walking home from
the hell-hole called school.
I don't remember what the rest of this
poem was supposed to be before now.
So I sit and write.
The cliffs seem nice this time of year, I said.
-~*~-
Cliffs are simultaneously amazing and terrifying.
YOU ARE READING
New World on Fire
PoetryPoetry is not really a new world for me, considering I've been analysing poems since I was eleven years old in an academic setting. Now, I want to use the skills and the life experiences to write poetry and share it with the world. It's an ever grow...
