Blooms in Indigo
Every day poems from a very ordinary aspiring poet
Sunday, March 25, 2018
What do you make on your scale?
Hair falls, wrinkled forehead
I say it is the age
he says, don't compare
what do you make on your own scale,when you leave out grace?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment