Poems
Me!
from white to black,
your dove has turned,
once for you my heart did yurn
but now it is a hand crafted stone
inside of which a fire burned.
Its too cold to touch
too cold to handle
for me dont you dare light a candle
for it wont burn
too intense is the cold
my story of which is never to be told
my heart of stone is too heavy to ware,
so why to want to stare and stare?