Glass on Ice

She talks like rain on Sunday

and she laughs ike glass on ice

cold and distant twinkling stars

praise the shadow of your vice

Oh she fights like snow electric

blankets underneath the winds

little voices in big building

she’s empty as forgotten sins

No she’s never closed on Saturdays

she’ll say it doesn’t matter anyways

Tonight she loves like Oklahoma

dark and shady in the storm

Ya they say she’s never closed

But they’ll never say she’s warm

Socks too small and coats too big

Little exceptions to a norm

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About thesarahsector

A teenage girl who doesn't say OMG or LOL. I like Trader Joes scones, NYC, and writing. Check out my blog at: thesarahsector.wordpress.com
Aside | This entry was posted in Poems, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Glass on Ice

  1. journeyman1977 says:

    This has really got me thinking

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