Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2015
There was a certain cadence when he talked.
His head would bop to its own rhythm as he enthusiastically recounted, waxed poetic, or ranted.

Rant or rave,
There was no real in between
As is often the case with passionate people and sharp tongues.

His words cut like razors.
He was more than willing to draw blood and I was more than willing to shed it.
Daniella Veras
Written by
Daniella Veras  Miami, FL
(Miami, FL)   
541
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems