Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Shadowed Dreams

Custom User Avatar
More by this author
I hear the ping of the sycamore tree hitting the window pane in the wind.
Shadow footsteps heavily pace around the room.
Lost in memory blizzards I see a foggy vacation clouding my current dark compass.
Broken plate dreams existence sprinkles into puddles.
I taste plastic thoughts like grassy lace and warm winds on my tongue





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback