A wail
of sirens makes
her pale
with fear,
returns her to
the year
she stole
a cub from his
foxhole.
Ryan Stone
A wail
of sirens makes
her pale
with fear,
returns her to
the year
she stole
a cub from his
foxhole.
Ryan Stone
Writer of your voodoo.
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I don’t mean to keep stroking your ego 😉 … but this is truly extraordinary!
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Haha! Love it, Nathalie – please don’t stop 🙂
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Well, clearly I can’t stop. I don’t like to drown people in my comments, so I was going to read you and keep quiet for a little while…but I just saw this and I couldn’t help myself, it really is fantastic 🙂
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I’m flattered. Thank you 🙂
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VERY NICE
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Thank you 🙂
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W O W Z E R ❤
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🙂
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Siggggghhh. I don’t know how you do it. 😉
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This time around, you’d be shocked if I told you. But thanks 🙂
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😛
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Wow what an intense poem.
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😀
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🙂
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Piercingly good, Sir!
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Thank you kindly, Azul 🙂
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Most welcome 🙂
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Okay. So I LOVE LOVE LOVE this! Um did I mention I LOVE this? ❤️❤️❤️
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Haha, but what do you really think?! Thanks, Jen. Big smiles 😎
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Well, Just incase you missed it. I LOVE LOVE LOVE this piece! Hehe ☺️❤️
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Whoa, that’s a whole lotta love 😜 Thanks!
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Wow.. what a piece. Somethings are difficult to ignore or forget haunting us.
It gave me the shivers, and I won’t even ask if it is fiction or not. 🙂
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Thank you, dear Dajena 🙂 Ok then, I won’t tell you…
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Hahaha.. fair enough young cub 😉
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😜 that obvious, hey?!
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mmmm.. 😀 shshshsh don’t tell me 😀
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Wow, man, this is intense. How many steel cubs from the foxhole?
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Hopefully not so many these days. Back when I went to school it was a common occurrence. Thanks 🙂
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Hopefully not. You are welcome 🙂
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Beautifully strong!
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Thank you, Joci 🙂
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