Swan like grace,
Short hair,
Small space,
Sweet air.
Yet clouds hang over,
Blocking her vision,
She has no lover,
And is left in confusion,
Is she a waste of life?
Or just lost along the way?
Finally seeing all her strife,
Letting this be her last day.
She sits and contemplates,
Life around her booming,
Yet she knows her hours dissipate,
Her thoughts begin slowing.
That bright shining girl,
Now gone from this world,
Depression sending her for a whirl,
As her body turns cold.
The girl is now dead,
Done searching for a way out.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Nightlight
PoetryThese are my poems. Every single one I have written. I credit the title to my amazing muse. I get inspiration from many things and I often like to dedicate my poems to those I feel most need them, or need a smile. Have an amazing day or night or whe...
