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.