heartsRedheaded Geniushearts's blog: "Rohnnda's Ravings"

Drought Season I look to my inner center--Who am I? If ever I knew now it escapes me. Once my spirt boundless, no longer exists, Where did I go? When did the river run dry? How did I not see the drought coming? Did the rain stop falling, or did the sand greedily drink the stream inside dry? No longer will tears swell in my eyes Death of my Spirit means I no longer cry. Rohnnda Sayri Benavente Copyright ©2008 rohnnda s benavente