Methinks, I can swing my arms and make the words do the dance.
To the rhythm, different letters they tap along.
Poetry I may call it,
But lay here sentences with too many feelings tucked inside.
- A ghost
- Poetry – she’s a woman
- A bright green parrot with a red collar around its neck
- The prisoners
- The Last of 90’s Girls
- A game of rock, scissor & paper heart
- Blurred lines
- Let’s trade our shoes
- You, me and the world war 3
- Troubled girl