These ashes of what you had
These remnants of all the sad
This torn cloth of wasted thread
All of this will eventually fade
Leaving only tiny scars
Reminding you of the sweet and sour
Nothing more than a million bitter
Nothing like the present sweeter.
YOU ARE READING
My Escapade..
PoésieJust a random Indian girl penning down her thoughts. Do leave a comment with your reviews.
