Sad She Sits Poem by Saint Cynosure

Sad She Sits



Sad she sits
Herself a chain
That's locked and without key
No tumble left undone
And combination free
Shaking has a shackeled shoe
Noisey within steps
Ringing deeply tuned to tears
Soaked and deeply wet
Screams they are her thunder
Lightning in her gaze
The eye within the storm that brews
Won't wash her pain away
Sad she sits herself a chain

Saturday, August 29, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: pain
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