just randomly popped into my head


Her

Her black hair glistens as the moon and stars shine on it.
Running away from her problems she sits under a willow tree,
She paints a pretty picture,
she paints it on her wrist,
For every cut there is a problem
For every drop of blood there is a tear
Her head full of broken thoughts
She runs no more



Poetry by Dani
Read 518 times
Written on 2006-09-12 at 14:58

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Stumbled upon your Her, and it certainly is a very powerful piece of poetic illumination. Good job, Tai
2006-11-07


Kathy Lockhart
Dani, first welcome to the bay. Second, this is an outstanding piece. Your talent is shining! : ) kathy
2006-09-12