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back of the bus
I hear you at the back of the bus Staring eyes up my legs I hear words describing my body From my toes to my head You talk about what you would do But you dont see my music is paused You are being quite creative But I still wont applause Your lack of balls…
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Mummy….
Mummy, I’m sorry for our fights it isn’t right to be angry with the woman who gave me life, with the mother that made me who I am. You taught me to be strong, I try to show my strength in fights, but it makes us both weaker, we need each-other’s love to thrive. Then,…
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Poetry by Taylor 