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Burnt hair

All poets 

Ask

Is any one listening 

For most none are

These are the hidden poems

We speak at midnights agony

What do we see when we look on our aging back to our box under the sky

What drives us to give pure

Words and broken love 

Burning the hair, she gave us as a charm

Who is sorry after that

Who is a man who cuts his pony tail because she did not love you

Who is a drunken poet in the dark

Perhaps it is a lesson in magic we should best forget

~mliarrrr

 

 

 

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