The trees whisper her name
She is a fairytale
But not quite a saint
She is the coffee at 6am while you look at the beauty of dawn
She was said to walk and all flowers blossomed in her direction
But she
Is not reality
She is not a real being
She is the happiness we miss seeing
It was said that when you looked in her eyes
They were cold but would set you on fire
She glowed like a bunch of fireflies
But these tales are lies
Until she came by
YOU ARE READING
Good ol' poems
PoetryThese poems are ALL MINE and if you want to use them PLEASE credit me. None of these are copied and are from my imagination and thoughts. None of the pictures used are mine and I do not take ANY sort of ownership for them. Enjoy :)
