꧁꧂
Stirring up a hornets' nest; thy demure soul
A murky hideout, disturbed and derailed;
Have marked the shadows possessing tired eyes
While desperately thought of making a run
Aye, escaping—looking back with reluctance
A coward myself, I've been too timorous,
Told me to be grateful; I have much galore,
But what used to shine has now gone redundant
I tried to endeavour the feel of pleasure
But for long, I've stood and walked within the line;
Always wasting time only to feel declined,
Have never accomplished their taste of design
But wait, hult this fret and see
The wings behind the beige covers have shown
The burgundy fog has turned to ivory
A beautiful path of destiny is drawing
What used to be peculiar is now beauteous
Colors of new lurking behind the anxious
The limbs so small, unveiling in motion
As the dawn of day wakes the slumber.
Thank you, Ms. Lea for your excellence in mentoring my poetry.
YOU ARE READING
A Poet's Diary
PoetryWhen she first felt disappointment in herself, she hid. When she wanted to step out and give it a shot, she took the step. When she first felt rejection, she renounced his presence. When she wanted to show her hidden truths, she spoke. When the butt...
