whatmakesamom
Learn more about other poetry terms
I must admit I am quite compelled,This path doesn't seem to fit me,Wondering now if I can turn around,Trying to make sense of this,Intoxicated ,Oh these stories they kill me,
I saw them
They gathered water
And the constant turning
As if she was waiting for change
Like someone to rescue her
Or save her from her own fear
It scared me
Kept me alert