He breathed in the smoke. And with every puff he took, the emptiness within felt a little less heavy, a little less darker. Well, at least he held it in. Until, he could hold his breath no longer.
I hope he finds himself before it's too late.
-Unknown
YOU ARE READING
The Book Of Quotes
PoetryPoetry isn't about fancy vocabulary or rhythm and rhyme. It isn't the polished verses set I'm neat cursive. Poetry is vulnerability and truth. But more than anything, poetry is raw. These are a collection of quotes/poems that inspires me! I write wh...
