Sour gem of citrine,
My lips pucker as they embrace you.
You are as fresh as the morning's dew,
Yet held back by your bad reputation.
If only they knew,
The secret sweetness you hide.
Inside small beads of your flesh,
I know there lies treasure abundant.
I hope I'm enough,
To make you feel loved.
Outcasted by all other produce.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryA collection of poetry, an unorganized jumble of thoughts and feelings expressed through simple prose. Feel free to jump from poem to poem or read only the titles that appeal to you.
