Poetry

What my mind wanders off to as I am writing.

The little girl that wasn't there

She was so innocent, so quiet Pure and untouched Not lively, dead in a way I wondered about her Was she in a deep thought that takes almost forever to get out of

Anger

Angers rushin I'm in frustration What can I say I'm full of hate Many can tell but usually dispell from everyone around them you can tell When you call my name I don't know what to say