and tearswill come again—still scalding hot—for the sparks snuffed outand those that burn out too soon. M Mia VT 19 years old
Poetry By Mia the stench of sorrow From dirt I rose intothe heat of theburning flames at your bedside.Your home—not lostbut on the runno longer so scorned by our bright sun—flies lower than a murder of crows
Poetry By Mia The obedience of leaving I leftthen was leaving when I was told not tobut you let so much of a river passby--escaping your treacherousburning eyesso I bled down the bankto where the golden dew shonelike fiery teardrops
Poetry By Mia Leaving soon What has left will notreturnwhich is to sayyou will remain:beautifullydevastated.
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