They write
As if the words won't
Fade
They write like they
Aren't just sixteen
They bend and snap
They close and open
They become more
As if bridges of their
Words connected them
And whisperd every word
They are the ones who
Cry past eleven
And open a door
Just to close it again
They've forgotten and gotten
The words they've traced
Everyday
Between it all, they still
Slip away
YOU ARE READING
Snowflakes in Spring
Poesía𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸�...
