I can't see the stars without my glasses,
Nor the moon illuminating the sky,
Everything that has happened passes,
But when I'm with you I want to fly.
The smell of a freshly made pie,
Doesn't matter to me, they're just gases,
You're the only thing on my eye,
Because I can't see the stars without my glasses.
YOU ARE READING
Flying Whales
PoetryTwenty six letters repeated again and again to create a change in one's self. Poetry at its finest. Highest in poetry: #63 8/7/17
