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Hayleyy Dawn Poems
Can I be the words you write? ; Beautiful and thin. Flowing softly on the page Permanent with pen.
Living on Air
Hollowed out and empty; Like a tree she stands her ground. Holding onto nothing; Losing every pound.
I am a puzzle. The unwanted Christmas gift, But you smile anyways.
I was cut by an ignorant sculptor. A secret addiction Which nobody knew. She drove the razor across my skin
Sunlight comes trickling in. Yellow rays illuminate my skin. I close the curtains shut. No happiness for me today.
Crumpled up papers are scattered On the concrete jail floor. I open one up. It depicts pictures of hopes and dreams
Comments about Hayleyy Dawn
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Can I be the words you write? ;
Beautiful and thin.
Flowing softly on the page
Permanent with pen.
Lovely as the letters
I envy as I read.
Planting pictures in my mind
A garden which you fed.
Wow me with your wittiness.
Let me listen as you think.
I’m living in your poetry;
Intertwined with the ink.