My soul by Ann WoodI gave out of my soul
pieces of love, faith, light
but now that I'm deserted,
I started saving more.
It hurts me today for every bit
wasted-in vain ....
the treachery is very friendly,
I carry my human wounds,
and the signs of them to remind me
not to repeat naive, old mistakes
The soul, always the most expensive,
distribute modestly from her,
not everyone can keep her responsible ...
Poetry by Ann Wood
Read 218 times
Written on 2019-11-21 at 23:15
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