Her Skin's marks and spots
Signify the need to sound the alarm.
She's given up,
So Full of Love,
In Solitude,
This Lonely Dove.
There's no one to hold
When the light grows too think
Across this starry sky
Along these bars so paper thin
So paper thin; they could crumble
With a sigh or a sob
She stays in her element
In a way, she's never involved
She's given up,
So Full of Love,
In Solitude,
This Lonely Dove.
Tied wings. No light.
No Hope of Fight.
And no more to lose.
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(A/N: Thoughts?)
YOU ARE READING
To Whom It May Concern:
PoetryLetters written for the ones who want to know me or want to know the words that have been unspoken for so long.
