A few haiku for you.
Grief is the black bird
that sits upon your shoulder
to swallow your tears.
~
Her happiness grates
just like nails on a board;
I can only wince.
~
I can feel myself
open, petal by petal,
blossoming anew.
The End
RATE THIS CHAPTER!
Please login to rate this chapter!




POST A COMMENT
Wanna say something? Make yourself heard!
We reserve the right to delete spam, flames, or other nasty stuff.