rain & coffee
Please read and enjoy the work of a talented writer.
I am no poet by nature and I struggle with words
Stuttering. Stammering. My mind pokes around in an empty basket
For velvet fruit that hints at a whimsical world
In retrospect, would I have lived a fantasy
if I were an eloquent girl?
My tongue is a spindle for the simple heart’s rant
Tumbling. Revealing. Not a breath can break its flow
Yet I imagine sparkle but my writing is bland
I wonder; would my fingers bleed liquid star dust
if I had an eloquent hand?
My passion is like the lone weed in the rocks
Unforeseen. Unfazed. Uncertain about standing its ground
Within my gravel nerves chiseled and cracked by time
I speculate; would I quench its sands like an oasis
if I had an eloquent mind?
Yet I don’t muse over shortcomings when the rain comes around
Silver. Speckled. Like heaven crying for all that we lack
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