Wednesday Poetry



Sometimes the stars just want to cry
They twinkle, they sparkle;
The art of tears, a sad light
My heart’s perched on a wobbly branch
I could give in,I could fall down
Be eaten by a river, forgotten

Sometimes I could write the saddest poem
When every word is a song you cannot hear
A place inconspicuous on your map

Sometimes a pale flower is a complete sour death
My heart walks naked on a stormy night
And this is a cold,cold poem
Because sometimes you’re an expensive house
With doors not even made for knocking


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