Do you still care?
Don't ask my health
Or don't ask my nights.
The smoke now stealths
All the thoughts of rights.
Future is now unknown
And hid behind the groan.
Sometimes it affects physique.
Sometimes it makes moan.
Songs became the needle
And pictures became thorns.
it brings the storms
At the middle (of the night)
I found the lost letters today,
Remembering the days of may,
Which are now an eternity away.
You asked me if I was well.
I know the question is over.
But again, I asked your tale,
"Do you still care?
Do you still care?"
YOU ARE READING
Lost letter
شِعرit's just a poem made of many emotions and feelings.... i hope you will love it if you really love it then, show it.
