Childhood never has to end
You're never too old to draw with crayons
The waxy layers in the firelight
They paint the same pictures you want to show
Same as drawings on yellowed papers of long ago
A happy family, hand in mutant hand
Sausage fingers and radio jammed
Soppy smiles and rubbish haircuts
A blue sky and oversized airbus
With porthole windows and tiny faces
YOU ARE READING
Words Of The Dead- Words Of The Living- #Wattys2019
Poesía#1 in poetry- 26/7/18 Every day, thousands of people struggle with mental and physical illnesses, fighting battles people refuse to talk about. I'm here to change that. This poetry collection shines a light on mental illness, hopefully saving a few...
