Sun Poem by Olga Dragash

She can't make anything good- bad;
Or delete all the words world have said
She can't even erase her own thoughts in mind
No matter how much she tries to be kind.

Devil is holding her grip tight,
Leading her to hell through the night,
Telling her what to make and write
But barking dog never bite.

Soulless pretty and shiny
Big ideas, but eyes so tiny
Still standing alone in this war of cold
Trying to make everything seem like gold.

The lest but not the least,
You wonder who's is this feast
Who is the mysterious women everyone is talking about
Yet been afraid her name to shout.

She'll give you a hint when the time is right
Because she is the one who is bright
You'll be sure when you see
She is the one that is meant to be.