Summer so sweet like the juice of the peach, On bales of hay high, the ground just out of reach. Once upon a time, pre-desolation
By Steele E Sinn5 years ago in Poets
How can such a Love be so mistreated? How can holding out my hand be scorned? I offered my heart and soul to thee, Why have you decided to destroy me?
In times of great confusion When others all have fled When those you hold the dearest Are emotionally dead. There is a kind of solace
If my soul had an aura it would be blue, Not stormy or dark but bright cerulean, Like the chaos and the glamour of what I lived through.
