My granny love to tell me stories of how beautiful she was and how the suitors troubled her, i thought i should write something based on what she told me


Night

My breast milk has gone sour,
Night is no fun,
The agility is gone,
The curves are lost,
Admirers look no more,

Fallen bags are left,
Pains all through the night,
slow like a tortoise,
Bent like a tree branch,
In disgust they stare,

Indeed night should be dreaded,
Noon enjoyed while it lasts,
For the sun does not shine
forever.




Poetry by kayce
Read 857 times
Written on 2006-09-29 at 23:34

Tags Sad 

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