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He.


He scratched his temple
And peeled off his eyes
Reveaing his sockets,
Dark, unfathomable.
I held my breath
I was scared to death
"Please put them back", said I.
"Why?
They were fake."

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ChangefakePersonalitysuperficial

My Mother

When my mother was alive
Our home was like a bee hive
Full of nector of life
An friendly faces
Now that she is gone,
And as time races
Relationships previously healthy And warm,
Fall to mistrust and harm
Like a string binding beads together
Mothers bring people close to one-another.

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mothers. childrenfamilyfamily poem

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