Now my city is old,
damaged and ruined.
But this memory keeps coming to my mind,
swing and swing.
Though barren now,
that memory is still fertile.
The brief moment of intimacy,
when we shared our smile.
A poetry blog.
Now my city is old,
damaged and ruined.
But this memory keeps coming to my mind,
swing and swing.
Though barren now,
that memory is still fertile.
The brief moment of intimacy,
when we shared our smile.
My mind is in the clouds. My feet are on earth. The soul is wandering somewhere, and I cannot seem to place my heart. It's just is. I just am. View more posts