Bad Poetry
By Morgan LeFay
I sit here in the dark Writing My fears My wants My dreams All of it None of it Some of it True I don't really know anymore I don't care So I search for all those questions To the answers everyone has given me And I cry my eyes out every night Because some where my soul is dead It won't come back to me No matter how I coax it With the words I use To pin my fairies Thought fairies Down amidst my troubled dreams For deeper examination Like a child calling for its mother Or its cat I call my soul with fleeting words Of Bad Poetryany suggestions please Written August 8th, 2001 © on Aug 08 2001 12:55 PM PST 0 • 10
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"I sit here in the dark..."