March 22, 2009
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Voices in my head,
telling me to run.
To my happy place,
to the northern moon,
away from the southern sun.
Where the air is crisp,
and the weather moist,
their telling me to run,
but I have to make that choice.

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vampluv11 said...
Nov. 12, 2009 at 7:36 am
i love these types of poems. yours reminds me of Montana winters, and wolves. im sorry if that's weird TT.TT
Joanna said...
Sept. 25, 2009 at 3:28 pm
I like it a lot, especially the way the lines are configured. The only thing is it's "they're" instead of "their" in this case.
Nicely done though.
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