Poem: Incomprehensible Pile

The sun would kiss my feet,
If I were bold enough to ask him to,
But I’m not that cruel, my love.

And I would ask you not to judge me,
For the color of my hair,
Or the tone in my voice,
But I know you will, my love.

So I’ll walk across these flames,
Tell the muses not to whisper your name,
And find myself sitting on the moon,
Singing with the stars.

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About lowkiespeaks

I am a poetess, a mother-to-be, a pround woman, and stubborn beyound reason. View all posts by lowkiespeaks

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