Someone Will Stay

Chained Dolls Prose

Someone will stay and hold up my ego for my arms have become weary of your grace and your trodding petals hinder my growth. Below an apple tree your bitter words sew discord with my olive branch. Stubborn your plight. Frightening my pride. We dance upon sandstorms while throwing hailstones into the fire as if love never melts. Escaping is my final stance, for my arms have grown weary.
Someone Will Stay Copyright © 2017 Anna M. Asbury

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