My spirit opens like a sunflower in snow
i want some more of what you told me I could have,yet you never let it go.
my attic lair I kept to hide away from
peeping toms.
Paper whispers a secret now a blot on my side.
drawn as a lover but with no heart.
sigh
Fall carries sense of self to brain to work
and find the worth of a grainy sand
to the oceans touch.
still a charming writer did my muse
guess better?
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 10:37 AM UTC
My spirit opens like a sunflower in snow
i want some more of what you told me I could have,yet you never let it go.
my attic lair I kept to hide away from
peeping toms.
Paper whispers a secret now a blot on my side.
drawn as a lover but with no heart.
sigh
Fall carries sense of self to brain to work
and find the worth of a grainy sand
to the oceans touch.
still a charming writer did my muse
guess better?
ask ask ask
