my tears in Your drink
laying next to You at two in the morning
looking at the streets lights
hearing the raindrops
imaging cupid who lets them out,
to cry over my hopeless fate
empty cars, dark streets
I watch it all from the second-floor apartment balcony.
YOU ARE READING
left in the middle of a highway - a letter to contributers of my modern land
PoetryLeft in the middle of a highway - feeling lost, with many different paths to choose from and to follow, left in the middle - unforeseen abandonment, the highway - just life.
