Soure
Her Fathers Sour Ball Isabella tore strands from her long black hair running naked through the cold empty town stare Mothers screamed waking new born babies lullabies unpleasant dreams life is not always as it seems Catching pale-thighs on rusting barbwire jumping into his hiding place though not his grave Isabella ripped tuffs of lush green grass from the unkempt red veined marbled headstone four years of gossip aimed misery High pitched thinking drowned out by brass bells clanging reading... Sign in to see full entry.