She was a writer besides
But telling no one
A selfish wish to never fail
No one could know of her failures
But oh she could tell of successes sevenfold
If they ever occured
So she never told
YOU ARE READING
Late Night Poems
PoetryAll too often we lie in bed at night, unable to sleep because our thoughts are running wild, enjoying the freedom of this timeless dark. This is my share.
Was she ever?
She was a writer besides
But telling no one
A selfish wish to never fail
No one could know of her failures
But oh she could tell of successes sevenfold
If they ever occured
So she never told
