. a medieval day .

wish i wrote dark, about deep insecurities,

a struggling childhood, i wish i wrote

like others with words of wonderfull

syllables,  bells ringing,

you know.


wish i wrote long tomes, to bore myself

rigid. to tap the hours away till bedtime,



wonder if i shall write serious,

tell thee all  hard stories that

don’t exist. i wonder if i shall stop,

when no one reads.


this is a time to wonder at the

dark hours leaving, waters receding,

black trees slowly turning. wintergreen.




daily post




8 thoughts on “. a medieval day .

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