The fears comes
Creeping, slithering, crawling
It comes when I sleep
A concrete wall surrounding the moat that prevents my rest
Not fear for me, not fear for mine
Fear for US
Pink scars cover old wounds, but the pain lingers
Good hair, paper bags and pretty eyes
How easily we despise
US
Beautifully brown, blue-black, beige
US
I fear. I tremble. I dread.
What lurks within
US
Share
You hit that out of the ballpark, my friend.
ReplyDeleteThanks Lisa
ReplyDelete