One quiet day to write, few and far between.
I'd write away those sorrows - deep and unexplained.
I'd take your hand far later, mention a word or two.
I'd stop a thought so cruel, I'd still my mind to silence.
One quiet day to think, they come and go quite often.
You'd ask me what I silenced, you'd remark I'm such a tease.
And in that quiet day, I'd stop a thought so cruel.
It's far too young and fragile, it needs time and days to live.
YOU ARE READING
The Notebook rambles
PoetryIntroducing the first (and earliest) of this notebook writers pickings of so-called poetry. Verses about love, sadness, thoughts on the world and some introspection. Might include dreamy escapism to nature, teenage/young adult notions of romance and...
