Today is new,
The first,
The very first,
And the only:
September 25, 2023.
What will this day become?
Will this day become:
A flower in the dead of night,
Blooming in the hardship of darkness.
Will this day become:
A river so dry no one hears my cry,
So it flows with the ghost of water's death.
Will this day become:
A wilted flower just off shore
By a beach, so perfect, yet so sad.
What will this day become?
YOU ARE READING
Poetry By Me! (Morgan, he/him)
PoetryThese are poems that I write. My pen name is Morgan, so call me that! Also, I use he/they pronouns and love to write. Please, if you find any you particularly like, let me know in the comments! I plan to publish some of this in a book, just need to...
