My love is like weather, that's what she said.
Alive today, tomorrow, dead
For life is queer and love is strange
Nothing lasts and people change
But just as each morning comes with dew
And the sun comes after the rain
If I haven't found someone new
I'll return when you want to love again.
Litterator.
YOU ARE READING
The Lonely Hour
PoetryIt is in the silence of the lonely hour that one's thoughts are the loudest. Litterator
