Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2018
When the night comes, I hide

fears, sorrows, bad memories,

I wipe down tears and display children

colourful films

once milk has split

and there was a spot

our mum washed it a lot

and again there were dreams

and memories of good things

when the night comes again

I will unfold my magical power then
Written by
Anna Banasiak
149
     --- and PoetryJournal
Please log in to view and add comments on poems