From My Pen
It snowed and snowed on the day I was born,
and for that reason I love f a l l i n g snow;
in dreams I walk the frozen woods till morn,
and from my pen the words just drip and flow.
From a child- I was quite q u i e t and odd,
choosing to read books and write my words;
I would wander in nature and be just awed,
loving the songs and beauty of sweet birds.
A bird of g r e e n is singing to me a song,
and on my hand she comes to look at me;
I hold my breath and she becomes a friend,
of this gothic girl so deeply sad and forlorn.
Was born to weep- to write my verse in blood,
a cold wind reminds me that I must wake;
and snow is falling s o f t l y in my dream,
it snowed and snowed on the day I was born.
______________________
Re-write from May 11, 2016,
Poetry/Verse/From My Pen
Copyright Protected ID 16-834-622-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, 100 In A Row Contest 17
sponsor, Poet Destroyer
Fifth Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment