notaquitter (Remove filter)
August
August
She wished it to be a month of hope,
Not that of despair, or distress
Her days blurred in nothingness
Like a bird fallen in a trench, flapping its wings
Move, run, walk, read, write, stop!
Her body powerless, prisoned by her mind
Reduced to a mute spectator,
For her mind has a mind of its own
She dallies her day away
Eager for her sleep
No dreams, ...
Tuesday 1st September 2020 3:21 pm
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