Focus. Flashlight. Snapshot.
Life treats us unkind,
we all suffer from no might,
there's no escape... no, there's not.
Hiding and seeking,
playing games when we were young,
showing each other tongues;
When our eyes should be shut, we were peeking.
When we should be peeking, our eyes are now shut,
our tongues have changed into fingers,
that magical feeling that lingers
is gone with lots of hiding, yet no seeking. Cut.
YOU ARE READING
A COLLECTION OF POETRY
PoetryHello everyone! :) This is my poetry collection and I decided to publish it so I can let all these unspoken words and feelings out of the constricting walls of my computer and phone :D I started writing poems when I was still in high school and they...
