I'm not her sunshine,
I'm no one's true sun light,
I'm the midnight line,
Moon bright at its best light.
The sun draws your smiles on,
The moon seeks to fix what's is wrong,
Within you life the sun is the son,
While the Moon is the daughter, swooning song,
Why else would so many scorn the sun,
And fall for the moons sung,
Let us twirl away from the day,
And delve into the moons lung.
-Sara Chaney, July 2017
YOU ARE READING
The Dark Poems In My Head
PoetryThis is those little whispering poems that weasel their way into my wonderful brain. Don't know how this'll turn out, but, you know how it goes! Lets try something new! It is mature because some of this shit is bad! Extremely! Not sexual, but words...
