A purple heart
in the razed jungle
of Madagascar,
and the piano tree
bleeds and weeps,
a lemur sitting
silently in the sun
with a tail like a
question mark.
Where far,
if long,
will we
neglect deference
of the world?
YOU ARE READING
Someone Like Me {Poetry}
PoetryWith power there come words. And with words there comes music. And with music there comes joy. And that's why I write poetry.
