my heart listens to a sad whistle
from a stranger beneath an autumn tree
leaving reds and browns
i am counting the days
happiness
cannot seem to give me a sound.
tears glistens on dry lands
you are far my dear,
remind me no more of the distance.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
About Me
- Cyrella Racemiflora
- once in a while you chance to meet people from the inside universe of their own.
No comments:
Post a Comment