I want an old kinda love
Letter, flowers, and talk for hours and hours.
Picnics under the old willow, where you'd use my lap as a pillow.
Read to each other on rainy days, bringing other into a daze.
Put on records and dance together, stepping on each other.
Reminisce on days past and think on those yet to come.
YOU ARE READING
A Song of Memories and Curses
Thơ caI write poetry sometimes to let what I'm feeling out. This is a collection of my works.
