Another strange poem I made; when I was forteen.. Unfortunatly, its good.
“Reaching for the moon dear?” said an old and wise woman. |
“Against my will mother, for I feel a longing to fulfill a task deemed impossible, to reach for the stars and bring down that timeless idol, that light of the night. I grow bored of the simple songs of day, the clear bright objects that guide our way; I wish to touch the moon
(Note from Ryan; should the woman say anything in response. Something witty, pesimistic was my initial thought. . . but now I'm thinking either no change at all or something cute for the mother to say.
What do you think?)
This item is currently blank.