Daily poem

Listen close to the smooth riding, hyper scream, rough patch, never loved another soul, voice.

Silence must have always been her verture, her name, her way too much pain.

Quiet is what she whispered to her self in order to be taken back, and wrap it up, and throw it away.

Yes be listen, because you will always hear her say, “Silence is my favorite time of day”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s