*Withered meadows
I can dream no longer
your wings of stone
are far too uncaring
and I simply cannot handle
another grass stain*
*I love those
breezy Saturday nights
with the swinging irises
lazy daydreaming lashes
and I am peace
glowing in the dark with
my surrounding happiness
I'll carry this jar and letter
throw it to the bottom of
the deep end
in the morning a stranger can
find it and wonder the mystery
of rushed lead and bold lettering*
May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 10:19 AM UTC
*Withered meadows
I can dream no longer
your wings of stone
are far too uncaring
and I simply cannot handle
another grass stain*
*I love those
breezy Saturday nights
with the swinging irises
lazy daydreaming lashes
and I am peace
glowing in the dark with
my surrounding happiness
I'll carry this jar and letter
throw it to the bottom of
the deep end
in the morning a stranger can
find it and wonder the mystery
of rushed lead and bold lettering*
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