An hourglass figure,
But the sand keeps slipping through,
'Till she fades away to nothing,
Consumed with the thought of you.
YOU ARE READING
Morgue Melancholy
PoetryA lot of these don't have any real meaning, I write them just to write.
Hourglass Figure
An hourglass figure,
But the sand keeps slipping through,
'Till she fades away to nothing,
Consumed with the thought of you.
