Poetry
The Wait
I sit in this chair all day.Dawn turns to dusk.Nobody comes. I wait patiently.Expectantly.Hopeful of who will walk through the door. Dusk turns to night.I
Tag: poetry
Poetry
The Invitation
Fire.It burns. Hurts. Destroys. This fire is differentI watch people as it rests on them.It burnsBut does not consumeIt lightsBut does not harmIt is hotBut
Poetry
Looking out the window
Looking out the windowThe intimidating looming shadows point fingers her wayAfraid, she pulls awayHiding from the reprimanding figures The darkness is a constant reminder of her
