Poems from Chayle
How sweet must it be to have sugar cane and honeyTo have golden locks, pouty lips; a sharpened noseI could be wrong, but this twisted form...
The silence kills more than I expected it toLooking back on it all, I start to cryWondering how I became this person...I don't even know...
I'm not what they think I amOr at least hope it's not just meI'm not that terrible, I can withstandThe anguish of waiting for the golden...
Let you go, I guess that would be the easiest solutionLet you stay in my brain, & I might drill a hole in itDig around for some common...
I've been waiting all these centuriesCounting them like hairs on my skinEvery single day laughed and never reachedAny of these morsals I...