Love is a campfire.
You can bring the gasoline
The matches
And enough timber to build a cabin.
But nothing will happen
Unless they brings the spark.
And if they don't.
You'll be left with splinters in your hands
And the stench of gasoline in your throat
Wondering where did you go wrong?
YOU ARE READING
A Boy And His Box
PoetryHey! This is my first time doing something like this so sorry if I suck. This is going to be a book mostly filled with poems I write. I'm going to do other things with later ,so of you don't like poetry stick around for some adventures. This book is...
