Poems from Marie Wisa Beauge
I toast to you at every slumber night.
You who was never invited but became known.
More accurate than camera yet you have selective amnesia...
I can't say her parents did not care
But at the moment she was dared.
He strolled to her side with swag like Romeo
But she failed to...
Crimson thoughts, frail soul and flimsy bones,
But you thought you were above it all.
There is only one being that can whisper sweet words...
(One more fight with her mother
One more tear shed on the bedspread
One more day to go
One more question to ask God
One more time to figure...