She appeared within a whisper, her heart beats only once every spring.
These are the words he once told me. Only I acted out a scene of a play in my mind when I would watch snowflakes flounce their way in front of the house outside.
Such memories yet, the only thing I could recall, is that little ballerina standing tall.
Where can I dance like her sir? Laughing through wine-stained teeth, he replies, “There are no talents for your kind, little flea.”
I breathe only a single breath, closing my eyes, I am free.
About the Creator
A. Raphael
Poetry is my first love, and writing words onto paper is my therapy. Maybe my submissions will make you feel something, too.
If you find something in my words, then it is my pleasure.
A. Raph
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