I don't know why
I often cry, cry and cry.
when I look out the window,
the trees move, as the wind blows,
like something running down my cheek,
I'm scared, I'm rumbling,
my heart whispers, that here I am not safe,
I deny it, I ignore it,
because it's my duty,
I'm sad, but it's okay.
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Color Of Life (A Collection)
PoetryMy mind keep thinking, thinking until I can't feel again. This will be never-ending, but who knows if one day I'll give up, it's the day I can feel right again, it's the day I feel like my story is enough. . . . "What if someone's heart want to live...
