She wrote down her thoughts
More than she said them
The paper was her confidante
And her mouth the pen.
She wrote in prose and rhymes
In words of grief and pain
Sadness was her mother tongue
And joy her only bane.
She wrote down the cruelty
Of love and of art
She fed on broken promises
That gave her a shattered heart.
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
She wrote down her thoughts
More than she said them
The paper was her confidante
And her mouth the pen.
She wrote in prose and rhymes
In words of grief and pain
Sadness was her mother tongue
And joy her only bane.
She wrote down the cruelty
Of love and of art
She fed on broken promises
That gave her a shattered heart.
