Her lips were blue
Her hands ice cold
She had no children
She never experienced being old
Her cheeks were grey
Her eyes were frozen
Perhaps this was meant to be
Perhaps she was chosen
YOU ARE READING
An organised mess
PoesiaA poetry collection with random poetry I have written overtime, and thought i'd share. I aim to add a new poem into this collection every day, could be the occasional off day :-) hope you enjoy! **thoughts day to day, put pen to paper and let the...
