Gypsy
Lost, forsaken
Roaming, hoping, searching
The alleys of his heart, I am
HomelessHomeless
Separate, cold
Humming, dancing, leaving
My trails, so I may not remain
NamelessNameless
Common, clumsy
Being, knowing, bearing
Who I am, will always be, just his
Gypsy
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YOU ARE READING
Summer Sands
PoetrySummer The days are longer The night skies Draped in stars, Shimmering pearls in the ocean; While the seagulls soar Above the ever, turning tides.