I can't recognize myself
lately;
I'm someone I use to know.
I think you took me with you
and I was oping you could
just leave me somewhere else,
because I've been waiting
for myself,
waiting for all the pieces
to come home.
YOU ARE READING
BLACK BUTTERFLY
PoesiaI recently went to a bookstore and decided to write down it's poems: by ROBERT M. DRAKE. BLACK BUTTERFLY.