Strike.
Match sticks aglow, low.
I'll show you how it flows, slow...
Are you ready?
Here we go.
Strike. Flicker. Spark.
Be careful, little doe.
Once overflowed, you know
long way, we wouldn't go.
So, little doe, slow.
Sparks can throw.
You do know,
love can grow, slow.
Just like matchsticks aglow, low.
Keep walking in tow,
so,
you'll know:
How to love till old.
YOU ARE READING
qurencia < poetry collection >
PoetryA poetry collection of my thoughts, feelings and words from the soul, which I hope to give you a sense of belonging and a homoe while saying "You're not alone". querencia : "A place where one feels safe; a place from which one's strength of charac...
