Poem 27 | Day Twenty-Seven
afraid
I’m afraid of you
Scared you’ll bury me with shame
Draw in all their stares
I guess I'm afraid of that toogreat poem about everything ending for your final poem!
don't forget me
my light will grow weak,
but you can keep it dim
This is the End.
examine their every move
where they pause in speech
the tone they carry in their voice
inspect how we use our hands
or whether we stroll or saunter
how we bend and twist our brows