There's a bouquet of dead flowers on my desk
There's a message on the dashboard of my tongue
There's a pang on the severity of my dreams
There's a pain on the midst moon of my crude belief
There's a loud scream from the inner most lingers of a set of lungs....
Mine.
YOU ARE READING
Mellifluous Murmurs
Poetry❁ Freedom is allowing the crisp air to guide you through this forest we can call society. ❁