a riddle
as the morning light
bends round the straightend curve
my hands travel
alongside your pain
softly telling
of spaces lost
extended into tears
burried inside a riddle
begging me to find its relase
and the light follows day
Poetry by kath
Read 387 times
Written on 2007-02-10 at 08:37
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
lastromantichero |
