Tucked up against this old grey mountain
Perched on the rolling hills before it
This house holds warmth, space, safety
I perch within it, knees up to my chest, arms squeezing
Like a teenager up in a tree, hoping not to be found
Pouting, growing against my will, dreaming a dream
I can never fully understand but yearn for all the same
Looking to the moon for my reflection
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment