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Oct 21
Taking her in is a wonderful thing
No longer does peace rhyme
with my suffering-
Today it’s rational fears;
A test, eating well-
Going off to college and
dying off to hell-
Now peace is my room in the morning light
It’s Baroque chords and high marks and
skirts tight-
It’s comfort, and people,
And especially her,
It’s her bold mouth and walking hand in hand
The same hands under her shirt-
And finally do I know what life’s meant to mean.
And finally do I realize peace does not rhyme with
mentally in such a better place !
Written by
Acora  18/F
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