Worn
She was a muse
In the hands of those
Who handled her poorly
Who built castles in the sky
Upon her shattered smile
With the fractured pieces of her heart
Without regard for her unguarded while
To devour her like used rags
And recycled paper
“SHE WAS A MUSE IN THE HANDS OF THOSE WHO HANDLED HER POORLY”
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Enlighten
Let me capture you In the spread of the momentAs the light brushes against your face
In Your Affection
The kindness was in his eyesThe sweet assuring Of his soft-spoken inflection with words
Lonely Courage
Vary are the days Of lonely courageFor the fair likelihoodOn quiet, only days
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