What are we doing here?
I was unsure about this,
But it feels more right
With every whisper in my ear.
You're my poison and my cure.
What are we doing here?
I'm finally sure.
The trace of you left on my skin,
The glances to deep within,
My soul
It's reaching out for you.
I know what we have isn't real,
But that's how it feels.
The devil has my soul to sell,
But I can assure you
This isn't hell.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of Life
Thơ caThis is a gathering of poems about different stages, kinds, and experiences of lives.
