A poem by ChelseaHere I am Trapped a prisoner of fear.
I'd rather be anywhere than plain old right here.
Those weeds stand tall outside the rose's thorns.
They only laugh when they hear me mourn.
I don't know why I am here,
I am just a small flower locked in
a garden of fear.
Chelsea
1 comment:
Chelsea, this is a beautiful poem. Also, your little chocolate cakes look divinely delicious!
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