Street.
Lights.
Meet, me.
Where you want me, to be.
Fish.
Ponds.
I wish, for.
Us, but like before.
Brick.
Walls.
I'm sick, of it.
That I have to, admit.
You're the only one that would
make me stay in my neigbourhood.
YOU ARE READING
Pencil Twist
PuisiPoetry about lives and living, your life and mine. The good things and the bad, things you remember and things you forgot. things from the past and things from the future. I hope you'll enjoy! Feedback, suggestions and all that stuff are always wel...
