Once again they met in the same eerie park.
Once again they sat on the same rusted bench.
Once again they were strangers,
But this time with moist eyes and a whimpering soul.
YOU ARE READING
Dead Ends
PoesíaSometimes it's not about the end. It's just about the story. A collection of four liners that I wrote which didn't have the oh-so-perfect endings. Well because life doesn't offer each and everyone the fairytale endings they grew up listening to.
