Linda Marie Van Tassell > Writing | WritersCafe.org

The moon witnessed it all ...

Moving Towards Discovery

It's a matter of perspective and how you choose to look at things.

Tears conceal the memory of a long time ago.

And the blackness of night loses the moon. I know love will not return to me soon.

Dress me like poetry in silk stanza stockings

Willow is half sleeping beneath the canopy that weeps beside the river, hanging gracefully.

Sometimes, love is not what it's supposed to be. It's dysfunctional, hurtful, and turbulent.

A song of Despair - Sad; but True.