Francesca Martin Poetry

Snow capped mountains
Deep red footsteps of experience
Trickled over 180 days
Rained from a heavy cloud
Could tell history over the course of ones life
Or notes of a histories past
Continuing to grow from a blank storm
No matter the subject
Residing in a recycling bin,
Lies leaked from a pen
Or worn down, easy to change
like lead
A graded history
It will soon obtain a new life story

Poet: Francesca Martin