By Erin C.

As I sit on the beach
the wind blows so lightly.
The whispers of the lost souls
only come nightly.

They talk among one another
I wonder what they say.
No matter what I do
the whispers go away.

Then I hear a voice
whispering along,
say she wants to dance,
then I hear a song.

"Oh young girl,
young pretty girl.
Please do not raise your voice
to far above the noise."

I start to turn, to walk away
but hear the voice again.
Please don’t go, can you stay?
I never went home again.

WRITE ON, BABE! Now, for your reading pleasure, the latest masterpieces by GL girls–updated every week! To submit your poem, personal essay, short story, artwork or photography e-mail it HERE!

5/10/2008 12:03:00 PM
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