sob (Remove filter)
What Became Of That Poor Girl?
Nothing could stop what we did
Alchemy dictates its conclusion,
Tangled in an urgent chemistry
Physically desperate for fusion
What became of that poor girl?
Hiding those scars on her wrist
Bruises like plates on her back
Her lips in pain when we kissed
A freshers' conference is wild
Or used to be in olden times
Before masks and distancing
And other anti-...
Tuesday 22nd September 2020 11:06 am
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on for the Unbroken
9 minutes ago
Yanma Hidayah on Between Morning and Night
37 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on HAIKU DON BHLIAIN 2025 [UIMHIR A TRÍ DÉAG]
49 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Bread and Roses
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Haiku for 2025 [N. 12 KNEECAP]
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Forget-Me-Not
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Reference in Rhyme
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Life in blues.
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Gray Hair
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on MARIGOLD
3 hours ago