Socks and sweaters,
Nestled winters.
Waiting for the lights,
Huddled in disguise.
A black spot in between,
The christmas red and green.
I stood stuck, lost in dread,
As happiness whizzed by.
Waiting for warm hearths,
To warm my soul and core.
Waiting for my picture perfect moment,
But all I see are sombre tones.
YOU ARE READING
Unfinished Paintings
PoesiaA collection of my prose, poetry and epiphanies over the past couple of years. I've always loved writing and composing, but I'd never assumed anything I wrote was worth being read by anyone but myself. Writing has always been a way for my mind to co...
