A Windy Day-
The Wind blows through me,
It causes me to wonder;
To wonder if I really matter,
If anything I do really matters.
Whenever this constant force of nature
Blows through me as I mature.
It blows through my empty soul,
As my face wears a scowl.
Why do I think like this?
If I were to fly(A Tanka))
If I were to fly,
I'd fly away to Canada,
Or to darkest Peru.
Where ever life is easier than here,
And where ever life can be made.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry?
شِعرI came to resolve with myself to publish something on this platform so I decided on writing a little poetry.
