Harsh words
Hurled into
The ethers
The wall
Recoils at
The shattered
Glass, the
Knife cuts
Deep, dark
And deadly
Why must
We play
These hurtful
Games, when
I'm sorry
Is all we
Wanted to
Say
YOU ARE READING
Four Seasons Growing Inside Me
PoetryThis is just a jumble of writing, poetry, self help, rolled into a little thing I'd like to call Four Seasons Growing Inside Me
