Neon Poetess
B
Bill Cantrell
0
Altın Yaprak
Oh neon poetess,
We take delight,
With every word upon your breath
Tattered wings,
Against your light,
We gladly beat ourselves to death
Oh midnight poet,
In this darkened world,
A weary soul does well to cry
And though the sun,
Is much to hot,
In the day we place our wings to dry
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş