Why would windows wail whenever weaning was witnessed?
Witnessed, while wandering wherever we wean what we’ve withstood.
Woefulness we’d welcomed with wry wishes.
Words woven with wretched whispers wherever we’ve wrung.
We’ve won, whereas we were winless.
Won, when we were wholly wronged.
About the Creator
anthony giglio
I'd love to but, all my writing would be augmented to a persona in a way manipulated by my bio. If I say I am a saint, you'll either believe me or think the opposite. How bout you use your mind and decide who I am, then tell me.
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