blank papers:
long queues, red lights,
stuck between the lanes;
it isn't music echoing at the back.
empty pen,
no glass has scattered,
cooler spaces companies the room,
as sudden brakes recurring,
and lost leaf fell on the closed book.
BINABASA MO ANG
hiapoewy
Poetryyoung love cries with silence when awake, but all behold the same if they blink and dream. a collection of musing and free verse.
