Let it be known. That this calm is my own.
Though I don’t yet know home. As my grace takes the thrown.
In my caves pace and moan. Like a grave placed my stone.
I will wait for the scent of some pharamones.
To wake me a bit and change where I roam.
To get out and stay active and gain new distractions remaining adaptive and scrape my bones.
I’ll go huntin not hurtin, not sex but some flirtin, cus I am still certain I’m safe alone.
Poetry
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I loved reading your poem! The rhyming was done nicely. Thank you for sharing with us!:)