Maybe there will be a week, a month, or years,
We'll stay untouched,
remain in distance,
Full of silence,
And amend to the tension.
They took the keys and stole our seats,
Maybe we're being to comfortable,
Lookin at the sea while enjoying this moment between you and me,
Was that supposed to be a problem?
Or we are the problem?
YOU ARE READING
BULLSHEETS (2024) - RANDOM THOUGHTS/POETRY
PoetryDon't hate me, I don't like you either.
