Seven, eight and nine.
I always thought the burden was mine.
She told me her name,
yet cried all the same.
Ten, eleven and twelve.
I can still hear sleigh bells
near to where the snow fell.
Sawyer S.
Tag: relationship
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“A Mug for You, Too.” By Sawyer S. “Feral Thought” is Addict Brain Poetry’s former pen name.
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My dear Sapphire Sophia,
with reservoir irises that have abandoned Autumn.
You cannot forgive what has already been forgotten.
Thorns blossom from the asphalt.
My dear Sapphire,
it was never our fault.
Sawyer S.
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Upon barren soil,
a single tulip blossoms;
resuscitation.
Sawyer S.
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What does this mean, to exist?
Well, his fangs are plastic.
You may be prey but,
pray and pay but they may still say
that his lungs accumulate so much tar
that when he speaks, he may actually bark.
When they whisper
he may only muster a bark.
After all, his fangs are sharp.
They will always confuse predator and prey.
What will they see,
what will you
today?
Sawyer S.
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If I ever have the chance of change,
I shall don this hood
and not puddle from rain.
Sawyer S.
Addict Brain Poetry by Sawyer 