Her thoughts scattered in the galaxies inside of her.
Floating away in the depths of her soul...
Kind of like her lost in thoughts gazing skywards.
The scattered stars were the questions inside her
And the dark sky was the answer; always masked.
Yours truly,
Hazel.
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Eccedentesiast
PoetryI don't know what makes a poet, but it probably isn't happiness. All rights reserved © by CallMeDevil- (Hazel R). Cover by MercyWake
