White Fox Poem by fright myyouth
White Fox
She sniffs in the van,
she’s trying to be a man.
Her vile mood swings,
frenetic over small things.
Her pale white face,
from the previous night’s daze.
Her mum says its low immune,
that’s making her sniff always too soon.
So much anger and spite,
at everyone in the light.
Was she ever daddy’s sweet girl?
Or has she just lost it all in this powdery swirl?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 9:01:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
