midnight
w I t h o u t a thought or a breath
He sits there on his phone
unease and very doubtful
such a shame to be wasting tears
He cried until the sun rose
for; he was as gentle as a flower
but as strong as tree
you never knew what he was thinking about,
He inspired me
His name was Dylan.
YOU ARE READING
Inhale; Exhale
PoesíaHere's a collection Of my reckless poems Please enjoy These words I write As I tell you a story Of my life
