small delicate tiny rosebuds
in an open field of grass
shivering, waving, hovering,
by the bees
waiting
to be taken.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts Of An Insomniac
PoetryWhen I can't sleep My mind lives in a twilight Between beautiful thoughts and insomnia Where is it my thoughts go when the lights are out? a collection of words with extra spaces some may call poetry
