just randomly popped into my head


Her

Her black hair glistens as the moon and stars shine on it.
Running away from her problems she sits under a willow tree,
She paints a pretty picture,
she paints it on her wrist,
For every cut there is a problem
For every drop of blood there is a tear
Her head full of broken thoughts
She runs no more



Poetry by Dani
Read 554 times
Written on 2006-09-12 at 14:58

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text



Stumbled upon your Her, and it certainly is a very powerful piece of poetic illumination. Good job, Tai
2006-11-07


Kathy Lockhart
Dani, first welcome to the bay. Second, this is an outstanding piece. Your talent is shining! : ) kathy
2006-09-12