The Poor Girl Poet.

She wanders through the dark forest, no true destination, Anywhere that isn’t here seems like a good enough place to be. All rainbows and butterflies, nice enough, but not for me. There’s glitter in air, makes it difficult to breath. Under a full moon in the cool breeze seems much more delightful With the wolves and night creatures that others deem too frightful. She prefers too be alone although companionship is welcome. Silence, sweet silence, wandering through the unknown Searching for a place that feels like home.