Sitting up on her perch
She sees all that is below
Paying close attention to
The wonders of the show
Around her is hectic
Her eyes seldom blink
It's very hard to tell sometimes
What she really does think
The movements are measured
Never an obstructed view
Silent still on her throne
The question is what to do
Her intentions are secret
No one knows for sure
The way to a solution
Is to find a cure
When the times get tough
And her heart becomes blue
A friend is waiting there
To help her pull through
Her senses are sharp
Experience comes into play
The future is what's left
Make the most of every day.
Much love K
About the Creator
Watcher at night
When I was a child, I would occasionally sense an intense, ominous presence watching me as I lay in bed at night. These experiences were rare, perhaps a few times a year. I would keep my eyes shut and try to ignore the feeling until it passed or I fell back asleep.
By spooky session6 days ago in Poets
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