A quiet curse for better or worse.
Surely there's an anecdote, some
catchy phrase or witty quote.
Some quintessential poet's thought,
but then again perhaps there's not.
To describe the plight of quiet souls,
escaping down their rabbit holes.
Resting 'neath a quilt of fear,
lest they shed a quarrelsome tear.
That rains upon the Queen of sorrow,
a pain that dwells beyond the morrow.
Though qualified this lady be,
her bow and quiver fall to thee.
Left defenseless in their love,
a delicate quail or turtledove.
Too soft for the heart of quartz
Forever must they walk alone.
Written by PlaydateWithFire
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