Poets

If heaven were the colour teal, The eyes of the angels would all be green, all with flowing locks of ginger hair. To find me at my happiest,

you are the pulse, that races through my blood and bones. You have made me human and vulnerable, where i once was stone. once i thought i was destined to be alone, and upon finding you, i have found my home.

this heart knows pain, as frequent as rain, and harsh as snow, wherever, whatever the weather,