All That She Was.

All That She Was. short poem

Photo by MadalenaPestana

There she stood in the dark,
Dark hair billowing around her,
Her body, a perfect hourglass…

Skin; her skin was so smooth,
Smoother, even, than a surface of glass,
Glass-like she was, oh-so-fragile…

Her lips were full and red,
Redder even, than a rose,
Roses, yes, she emanated their sweet fragrance…

I wish she were mine,
Mine heart – ache for her, it did,
Did she not, at all, feel my love for her?

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Pooja Krishna

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HI guys! I'm Pooja, and let me first tell you that it took a LOT of courage, encouragement and coaxing from my friends and family to let me display my works to others' criticism. I started writing when I was thirteen, a short poem about my 2 day old nephew, and from then on, the pen has never been put down. I also write novels and short stories, and am about 1 step away from being published. I am a dilettante, and I fervently wish to be a teacher one day, spreading the joy of reading and writing. I'm quite boring, actually, so let me finish with this favourite quote of mine:“I write to give myself strength. I write to be the characters that I am not. I write to explore all the things I’m afraid of.” -- Joss Whedon
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