not too hot to where i feel trapped,
not too cold to where i feel attacked,
but just right to where each breath is fresh from the gentle breeze,
and i feel free and finally at ease.
YOU ARE READING
those who wander
Poetrythoughts from those who wander ~ best rank - 356 in poetry (july 2, 2016) [lowercase intended]
autumn
not too hot to where i feel trapped,
not too cold to where i feel attacked,
but just right to where each breath is fresh from the gentle breeze,
and i feel free and finally at ease.
