I could while away the hours,
conferring with the flowers,
consulting with the rain,
Communing in vain,
And my bighead! Oh my bighead!
I'd be scratching,
while my thoughts were busy hatching,
a mere flemzy feeling becoming attaching
A mere "Goodbye" becomes detaching.
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Words unsaid
RomansDeep thoughts.. words unable to let out Hidden feelings and inevitable truth #15 Poetrybook #Unsaid 17
