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Click hereWe were innocence
tangled in bubblegum,
undoubtedly a layer of filth lay between us,
torn by short distance that overexaggerated
in our immauturity
and lifted by courage and droughted by the fear, we
were separated.
Morning was the time to smile and night to cry.
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 37,500 poems.
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I can't beleive no one has commented on this one. Maybe, like myself, they were all left speechless after reading it?
ty,bd