I have wondered
where my life has gone.
Has it gone
between
the clouds,
a lovely shade of gray,
or the brilliance of a sunny sky?
Maybe,
it's in the city,
where my roots are,
or maybe in an actual tree?
Maybe,
I might be so damn morbid,
it's right in front of me,
blinded with poetry.
YOU ARE READING
Naive
PoetryWORDS WERE THE LIFEBLOOD OF POETRY, AND I REMAINED SILENT. A collection of poetry. For the people who don't feel at home in their own skin, for the poets, for the people who are depressed, for the people who aren't depressed, for the people with wo...
