You must log in or register to comment.
Harriet.
Harry-ette.
Hard-hearted harbinger of haggis.
Beautiful, bemuse-ed, bellicose butcher.
Un-trust
… ing.
Un-know
… ing.
Un-love
… ed?
“He wants you back,” he screamed into the night air like a fireman going to a window that has no fire
… except the passion of his heart.
I am lonely.
It’s really hard.
This poem
… sucks.
I think it’s pretty insightful.
The ending, at least.
If you don’t get the reference it’s perfectly fine to just not comment.
