A lady is lying in her blanket of sadness-
tears gliding slowly reaching her palms-
her eyes,
soaked with tears-
her mom taps her back,
"what's the problem?, she asks
"nothing mom, its just me".
she wipes her tears and writes,
"A lady is lying in her blanket of sadness-
tears gliding slowly reaching her palms"
she rings the other end of the line
"I have my thoughts ready, would you mind listening..."
the call ended
so her poem died.
Killing a Poem
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4 endeavored to criticize:
very good - the circular motion
of your poem, and the concept of
the death of a poem - with no one
to read her.
thanks for the comment! :) keep in touch always.
P.S
a poem written,
out of the blue.
i also write instantaneously! :D
i miss you! mwah!mwah!
i miss you too GkAe! kip in touch always.
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