Poewhit
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CATEGORY
life
Into the attic I creep.
Just for a tiny peek.
They won't ever know.
I'll go real slow.
A pirate trunk to find.
Jolly Roger, and that kind.
Slowly open to look.
It's empty but one book.
Soiled and old, yet it gleams.
First page open by seam.
Dear Diary, today I cry.
I met this nice guy.
from my poem book - DREAMS
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COMMENTS
SYQ222 says: Phenomenal!!!! |
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ALCOHOL TEEN MEDIA ADS, with fluff and hair. Says don't give a care.... |
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AN ANGEL In church alone I sat. Not letting my soul get fat. |
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SCREAM No food at the store. Newspaper without words. ... |
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GLOBAL WARMING BLUES Water at the door, knee high. Didn't fall from the sky.... |
