| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Personal >> ID #933765 |
| |||||||||||||
|
Like a volcano about to blow,
Slowly the tears begin to flow. Emotions that were unseen, Slowly come to the scene. Now is the time to pry, Everything she does she hides. No secrets can be kept, So she wept. Why must everything be so hard, As I look down at my scars. No easy answers come to mind. None that she can find.
© Copyright 2005 angel2blue (UN: angel2blue at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
angel2blue has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |