Sorrow oozes from his inner core
drips
into the sound of his tomorrow
The prism of his echoes
dance
an endless tattoo
on the window pane
Reaching a crescendo as the
applause
resounds in its simplicity
then soars into emptiness
Comments
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perfect in sound and voice... you should try entering a few of the quickie contests on here to stretch your wings...
this is good deb.. really..
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Honestly? its the first time I've tried this kind of style, twas on your advice
Thank you Gilly xx -
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well, you done good girl.. for sure
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