NaPo Day 19

slapdashmonuments

Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?


Is there someone who can teach me

How to make and keep a friend?

For it feels as though my every start

Too quickly meets its end.

My head tells me it’s all my fault:

All my ways just seem so strange.

I’m too quick to love kind people;

My age falls outside their range.

I know I have friends who love me,

And they’ve proven that they care

If another tries desertion,

LET THEM ANSWER TO JAVERT.


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