the teared water
running down
was a sacred sight.
the flow an escapade
of silent tears
of a girl lost in
dreams and fears.
YOU ARE READING
To The World
Poetry"the inferno of words would be my demise if i did not express them." #501 in poetry #640 in poetry #689 in poetry #692 in poetry
E S C A P A D E
the teared water
running down
was a sacred sight.
the flow an escapade
of silent tears
of a girl lost in
dreams and fears.
