Friday, January 13, 2012


She often loves, in circles
She often fades like ice
There are many stars she’s chosen
But wandering is her vice

& like an old carousel, she’s broken
Beautiful, though tired
Still late at night if you press her

-She sounds just like her colors...


5 comments:

Krysten @ Why Girls Are Weird said...

Very pretty, both the picture and the poem.

Megan said...

Beautiful, the photo is so whimsical and the colors are lovely :) Have a great day!

Janine said...

you are a beautiful writer. thank you for sharing a part of your heart with us.

Petra said...

beautiful poem!!!! thank you

Nicole Jeannette said...

beautiful, beautiful