Promply looking out the window
Yet your soul is all I've ever known
A mysterious world without compassion for my sorrow
How did I lose, if you never loved at all?
Every stranger you pass, ready to take a bow
In front of the beauty with blonde hair and an unattainable glow
Reminding me of the precious one I lost
Sweet like honey on a burned toast
YOU ARE READING
Peonies in the wind: A collection of atypical poems
PoetryPoetry written for those, who wish to be born sooner.
