Daytime grows shorter,
so little hours to enjoy,
leaving the night so still.
Winds blow through the trees
makes the leaves rustle in fall,
and are released to the ground.
I looked outside to
see trees stripped bare, as they wait
for spring's warm embrace.
When spring is over,
they await next years tranquil
spring rain, sun and breeze.
I am like the trees,
I too wait for change and some
familiar faces.
But sadly the trees
can't do simply what they wish
they only can wait.
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1. Memories, For, When I Am. (Being edited 2024)
PoetryHi we're the Valkyrie System. These are a compilation of events, thoughts, thank yous, and emotions from early life and high school career. Everything is told through poems, unless its letters to someone I used to love. You can believe me, stand wit...
