Speak

a poem

Speak pale winds of worthless Warren,

Who shapes the heat from sleepless nights.

In lonesome valleys expectations are taurine,

The hills lay bare this wrought less wight.

Sue lurks wicked by his inexperienced side,

Marking down swings bustling with drama.

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N.S. Simko

Poetry, prose, short stories, and experimentations. Whatever distracts me from working on my novel.