When I'm 27 I'll have
a huge garden full of
those white flowers
that bloom wide at night
and give off
their hopeful scent
to calm my mind.
When I'm 27 I'll have
a garden so dark with air so cold,
that it will peel my skin off
liberating me from
living in this body I call home.
YOU ARE READING
Self Taught Reality | a poetry book
PoetryPoetry books aren't that popular here but that should change, so I'm giving it a go. Writing is all I do besides school so poems are the only way I've found works to pour all the painfully abstract thoughts out of my head. I hope someone out there...
