It was a rainy and dark day, reminiscent of Gymnopedie No. 1.
A beautiful, sad day. The lone man, in a hoodie ripped at the sleeves, stood in the woods.
Like twine, a brilliant blue and green light wrapped his thin figure.
Of course, he couldn't see it.
It merely seemed like a breeze to the young man.
His eyes watered, wet pearls slowly dripped down his brown sugar cheeks.
He waited to no avail.
The sun would not rise for him.
The mountains would not move for him.
Falling through the thousand layers of Earth, however, The Twine caught his featherweight.
For no other was there to have caught him.
The Twine is not real.
The Man is still here.
The Twine is gone.
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A/N: Hey so to anyone that's reading, sorry if this is bad. I'm a newbie to the whole poetry thing! Anyways, love youuuu, byeeeeeeee.
YOU ARE READING
Poems about people I met at the park.
Thơ caYou ever wonder about the life someone else might have? What is someone else is going through? I have for sure. That's why I made this book. Have a good read?
