ODE to a WARM SOUL

Some may say,
Do not worry your pretty little head,
To they i say shush.

Some make light of my misery,
Tossing me trivialities and nonsense,
To they i say be gone.

Some offer a consoling voice,
Holding out tender arms and warm fuzzies.
To they i say come hither,
That i may share their embrace.






back