Poems from the_vintage_butterfly
Is the grass green like a summer’s day?
No.
Is the sky blue where children play?
No.
Is a little speck a dot?
No.
Does an old banana rot?...
Listen well and listen hard
To what this person has to say.
You may plug your ears
But listen to the beat
Beating out a rhythm
The right...
I cry
You close your ears
I weep
You shut your eyes
I reach
You run away
I write
You burn the paper
I wait
You rush on
I look
You turn...
Cast upon us
Midnight moon
Howl until the wind doth blow
Off the moor
Into the night
Still is breath
T-wolves
We fight
Gnashing, biting...
I have thought about it
As I’m sure you may have, too,
That friendship came between us,
Broken, scarred and bruised.
We ended it in...