Evasive
Like a stigma etched deep in my heart,
And the free trial offer it gave.
Now hidden behind the fig leaf,
Deep in the forest,
Ashamed by the grief.
Find a blind spot to sneak up on me.
Good luck in the woods,
For like the elusive Blue Jay calling.
I am so hard to see.
poem by John Shea
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
