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poetry Tag

Sailing to the edge of the world, I travel with the painter's daughter We float for miles and miles, over the black and bitter water.   We're dying every day, but never dead like ghosts trapped in a shell, from where we sit, the world is gray, in this little boat we call

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Too Young for Wearing Black

Laura Kenny (@LauraRacquel)


Asylum Seeker

I am too young to clothe myself in mourning black.
A little mirror image of he who takes the living from the world.
I’ve hidden away the person that I was –
In a shroud of dark that drifts through streets with
Beagle eyes, ever-edged with tears, I drudge
With nothing to carry but thoughts of you
Like dumb bells that clang and drag me
To keep me in stride with this heavy heaving heart.