Your father is not mine My mother is yours We grew up in the same house Your eyes are blue Mine brown We shared the same dreams and nightmares You carried yours As a concealed weapon hidden Mine on my sleeve A rebel flag fully exposed You ran with the wind at your back chasing …
Trilby Yates
My words are a direct reflection of what is being played out in my mind. For artistic purpose and dramatic effect I have duct-tapped the "edit" button…
Trilby Yates 