Sep 2016
I poem if I could
I’ll write it
A stone made of wood
I’ll bite it
The highs and lows
Survive on your toes
Means letting go
I know it
Left cold
Let in
Letter by letter
I wrote it
I’ll write it
A stone made of wood
I’ll bite it
The highs and lows
Survive on your toes
Means letting go
I know it
Left cold
Let in
Letter by letter
I wrote it
