Her art speaks volumes,
Creating a sonorous sound,
Her words produce wonders,
Words which make the agelast forget how to frown,
The stroke of her brush,
The red to her face which comes in a rush,
Eyebrows frowned in concentration,
Gaze failing to notice everyone admiring her talent,
Her ethereal features,hidden,
Which she is often insecure about,
Produce comfort to the silent cries,
Her humorous actions hanging euphoria in the air,
Laid back slack,
With her hair tied loosely near her neck,
Her coldness offered to everyone around her,
But the soft summer portrait to those close,
Lazy girl craving for a different world,
Where streams are of spaghetti,
And truth is accepted all around,
Where the syzygy never leaves the lonely in need,
She leaves people hireath,
Once she takes away for the sky,
Yet the others never complain,
For they are gratefull for the ephemeral times,
Wish for her to stay forever,
The same as her quirky remarks,
The reveal of her greatness is soon,
Till then lets praise her in secret.
╚═════ஜ۩۞۩ஜ════╝
For Esh,
Don't be insecure about your beautiful self sunshine.
Cheers,
Mephoria.
YOU ARE READING
Epiphame
Poetry"So then I dyed my voice a beautiful shade of grey. Not too bright and not too loud." ۞۞ Epiphany + Me Epiphame: A sudden realisation dawning upon Me. ۞۞ In this poetry book I will be writing about things that I feel should be brought forward mor...
