A failure, my image proclaimed
Or so I thought.
A pout as the display lingered.
“It might just be a thought,” she said.
Shiny, that’s the right word.
Those smiles that shimmer,
That when stripped, you can’t tell
Shouldn’t matter… but does it?
Look! A scar,
Untended, merely obvious,
As her eyes stared,
Enchanted by the depth.
“Scarlet, I presume…”
She thought.
They feel deprived
From feelings I can’t define.
Perhaps lamentable quality,
Cutting edge with a stammer.
About the Contributor
Katia Ibereho Ngarambe is a poetry enthusiast who fell in love with expressive language. She studied literature and now works as an editor for various types of texts. Katia has been writing poetry and short stories since a young age.
