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Winds are rushing down to my evening
Flowers are falling, winter is calling
Windows are iced, outside I'm looking
Closing my eyes, summer I'm dreaming
Winter is cold, season to sleep
Memories of the past, so old so deep
Reminds me of her last chords to play
Remembering her last words to say
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YOU ARE READING
TURTLES
PoetryThis is a compilation of thoughts I have created and grown over my younger youth. A bucket full of randomized downfalls flowing with a young innocent and reckless love. Interpreting life as a fabled fantasy slowly forming paths of footprints in the...
