Bouquets pulled apart
under the watch of the albatross;
lost with an open heart
by the thatch father -
-
and the hermit cries,
seduced by the notion of foreign
thoughts and lies
promised to himself at night.
Description: A simple poem I wrote while I had writers block.
I began feeling that all my ideas were a line long and then nothing, which wound me up so much. Anyway, this ended up coming out.
