It's afternoon,
get out of your home,
take a walk,
bring a book,
or a note.
It's afternoon,
and it's so windy,
blowing soft on your face,
follow with the trees,
swaying like a melody.
It's afternoon,
where you can find peace,
watching a wonderful view,
waiting for the sunset,
fill the sky.
It's afternoon,
where you can also serve a drink,
whether it's a tea, or a coffee,
it'll be nice,
followed with a plate of cookies,
oh, very stuffy.
YOU ARE READING
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...
