Summer bliss
More by Penelope
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Wistful Words
Poetry used to fall from my earthy lips like flowers.
My words were lightning
My hands thunder
My tears like glass and waterfalls
Falling heavily onto each chalky page. -
Sixteen Candles
Fifteen was good to me
Will sixteen be too?
Will it be everything I’ve hoped for
Or will my hopes fall through?
It’s a bittersweet feeling
Growing older as we do
It’s hard to believe
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