Violetta Sunshine Poems
- The Window My breath is written on the glass, A colourless...
- Dawn The sweet singing of the birds, The friendly rustling ...
- My Future Child Oh how I wish I had a child of my very own, ...
- I Love You In the sweet air of summer, Let the gentle ...
- If I Could Go Back I would not have been quiet throughout ...
- A Painful Existence She held the knife in her hand, The ...
- Depressed Days The bare trees hovering above, The branches ...
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Comments about Violetta Sunshine
My breath is written on the glass,
A colourless canvas of my life,
In a private gallery of my own,
Guarded by the black curtain of my soul,
My dreams are frozen within,
Some days they drizzle down the drain,
Or shrivel in the fire of the sun,
The breeze embraces me like a ghost,
These stains are my mark on the world,
Someday they may imprint the soil,
And walk amongst the pure air,
But for now I am a silhouetted spectator,
Beholding the moving painting of the land,
And lamenting that a window is not a door.