Of Was


She put away her face
Caught up in the moment
Getting ready to leave
This is not a foot race
There is grace in movements
I have tricks up my sleeve
An old deck of playing cards
A field of war where angels bleed
There is nothing you may give me
It has all been taken back
To that whom as may be
In the hearkening of was agreed



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 744 times
Written on 2015-01-07 at 13:41

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