Gypsy
Lost, forsaken
Roaming, hoping, searching
The alleys of his heart, I am
Homeless
Homeless
Separate, cold
Humming, dancing, leaving
My trails, so I may not remain
Nameless
Nameless
Common, clumsy
Being, knowing, bearing
Who I am, will always be, just his
Gypsy
YOU ARE READING
Summer Sands
PoetrySummer The days are longer The night skies Draped in stars, Shimmering pearls in the ocean; While the seagulls soar Above the ever, turning tides.
