I look at the leaves
How they blow in the wind
I wonder how many lost souls stared
Looking for the answers in the trees
Wishing the wind would pick them up
And set them free.
-l.h.
YOU ARE READING
The Demons that Make Me
PoesíaAll of the thoughts you have at 3 am, the things you feel, see, and how you think. Things you keep to yourself in fear of being called crazy, I'm writing.
