man who loves the dawn
wouldn't sleep late
man who loves the dawn
loves the sun
not just in the morning
but at sunset too
if he ever misses the sunrise
he would head for an empty sky
at evening
it wouldn't matter to him
if it ever rained
or black clouds prevented him
it would make him gloomy perhaps
but he knows seasons end
he's brilliant
he talks of star and is stardust
atleast not a human,
not like them who hanged him
i know the truth
lying there in the fake words
and tones you prepared for hours
on your glasswalled bulletproof
feelingproof homes
he wasn't dead until they
set it all up.
from how i see it it's not so hard
to mould a murder or
to buy a rat police or
to change the prints
YOU ARE READING
about a queen
Poetrywhere she writes about people or places or incidents that influence her in unique ways or just makes her bitter and make her think, in a way shaping her.
