she's that weirdo
that talks to the trees
her bestest friends are crunchy leaves
she watches ants carry little things
serves sugar water to chunky little bees
who is that girl
barefoot on the street?
running around
with dirt on her knees?
splashing bare legs in puddles
picking flowers for her tea?
who is she
that hears a call from the sea
and knows her spiritual needs
they just don't see
wild woman
they call her
yes wild, but she's free
-diaryofalittlestar
YOU ARE READING
i think about it all the time
Poetrya collection of unique poetry fueled by random deep emotions and thoughts that sometimes sound unsettling. eldest thought daughter.
