A Wee Poem

a wee poem.

He folds me in his humour,
In that which I can not see.
He holds me in his hunger,
For the want of whats to be.
Expression, minus a thousand words,
Empty.
Anticipation at two to the dozen,

Call it ten a plenty.

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About misselletea

30 year old female who's interested in all sorts, but not very good at most. I love life, love, colour, friends... and I love being.
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