winter
my spirit, it flys so free,
like those little fireflies outside the window,
a love affair, with the depths of me.
no waiting like others, for someone to run after.
I am alone, and that's it.
are they scared?
I mean why crawling people,
that sometimes didn't even want you?
being in peace, not having to worry about anyone other than me,
I mean isn't this true happiness?
YOU ARE READING
4 seasons of me
PoetryOthers write only the good, others only the bad...this is the place for those who felt both. Who loved and hated. A Journey, through a year of my Life. Winter (lonely). Spring (finding). Summer (love). Fall (losing). One year. Four seasons. One...
