Underneath the shingles
Beneath the glazed plate above
Here dines the destined—
Destined, little doves.
A place for them to indulge
For their beaks remained up
With their tiny wings aimed
Beside the two, woven chairs.
Seeds... release the seeds!
The night must continue, shall not die!
Hey! Let them be in peace!
For this little bistro is their final dais!
YOU ARE READING
Telling My Own Thoughts; Short Poems ✔️
PoetryBook 2 of the "Short Poems" series. - - - "Applaud like there's no tomorrow; live like there's no such thing as sorrow." - - - (NOTE: THE TITLES OF THE POEMS WERE ALL GOT INTENTIONALLY CAPITALIZED ON THE FIRST LETTER OF EACH WORD FOR AESTHETIC PURPO...
