Period Poem by Madrason .
Period
She didn't know, didn't she
and yet she seems to flow
into that imaginary
lying in a poppiefield
dreaming of unicorns
mermaids, losing pinkish glow
see how fast the puppies grow
and there went the bird
the first time she got hurt
it was like butterfly hell
the stroke of wings broke
some chords and strings
written all over
a falling clover
ahumn, what the heck
Never Again!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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6/3/2026 3:13:27 AM # 1.0.0
