There's an excited pit in my stomach
As I stand in your doorway
Holding onto the strong wooden frame
Your weary eyes squinting at your desk
Words under your tired gaze blend into one
Indistinct blurred haze
The radio whispers old melodies
Your papers abandoned
Thick summer gusts trail down to heaven
YOU ARE READING
My Poetry
PoetryI'm really bad a poetry, but I hope you enjoy! :) The poetry gets better, that, I can promise.
