A world of her own

In her mind is a vast world, where her demons run and play
And the greatest of artists paint her thoughts upon the sky.
But she sits a quiet beauty, barely a word day by day.
Yes, the planet overlooks her but you never hear her cry.
For in her head ships sail on a sea of ink
and galaxies are swirled.
A passing thought is what you think
As she conquers the world.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem