I'm jealous of the morning sun
Who gets to be the first to see you
Or
The cup of coffee
Who gets to kiss your sleepy lips awake
Sigh how I wish I was with you all the time
but that not how the world works
YOU ARE READING
The Fear of Drowning Deep
PoetryShe was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful something to be admired from a distance not up close. - A little talent is a good thing to have if you ever want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every...
