Why did it took so long?
The carriage, yes. It felt wrong.
Sweat dripped down my laced back.
Not a whip of air. No dust from a sack.
Then I heard. Roger called me.
"Hurry, malady, we have a ball to see."
Oh, I ran. With my shoes so high.
So they turned as I ran by.
It shone. The palace.
Not so bright. Not lavish.
There's a butler I see.
He's a joker. A jolly bee.
I sat down a flimsy chair.
Not a glace they've given.
I knew they won't stare.
Don't know treasure, for it's rare.
Madre, the song started.
I looked around, the table parted.
No one asked for my hand.
So I held mine instead. Grand.
It's hard you see?
To pretend you're in glee.
Perhaps it was a mistake.
The Ball at Medivia I should forsake.
••
I'M BACK ♡
-W
YOU ARE READING
Hurled Thoughts
ПоэзияWe hurl thoughts like we breathe every gust of wind... To the words never spoken. To the thoughts I have forgotten.
