A crisp white sheet of Pristine perfection. An awakened spring leaf Unfurls in the crook Of my arm. Your new life. My eye is mirrored In your liquid pupil As I stare Mesmerized Into a deep pool Of ancient memory.
02/27/2010
Posted on 02/27/2010Copyright © 2024 Marcus Lane
Welcome to Pathetic! The first stanza spoke to me of writing, you know, the old fashioned way that doesn't involve the keys of a keyboard. Your last stanza spoke to me like a question with an answer altogether too suspect. Enjoyed this.
