Poems from marsupialqueen
oh sweet child;
you don't deserve this
to see the cold, hard metal pointed at you
to see your friends taken away in a black bag
to not have...
i like sleep.
those few hours where everything is just
Silence and vivid imagination.
where no one and nothing truly matters until you wake...
She sits on a stone wall, combing her hair;
Humming a tune old as time,
Familiar, yet no one knows it
Old and frail or young and beautiful...