Blog

On my way home

On the way home I met an owl. He had Sharp teeth; they were as white as the wall. he spoke little things wise words,And his head scanned the air like a robot .                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         On my way home , l met a girl called Winter.

 |n The dark of snow her hands were as pale as paper, 

Eyes as green as the wet emerald grass.

She whispers sweet truths of  motherland .                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              On my way home, I met Myself.

I was standing in a hall of mirrors

and forever growing smaller.

I spoke of all the little things

that made me what I am:

red Smarties, walking on my hands.

                         

No comments yet.

Please leave a comment. Remember, say something positive; ask a question; suggest an improvement.

%d bloggers like this: