Assignments are hitting me like the rain in the beginning of autumn. My skin is tingling. My mouth dries. It seems that the weather is crying for help but I am not helping at all.
A dead leaf fells on my palm, secretly tells me that in the death, there is always another birth. A new life is waiting for guidance to control the humanity. If I can stand the misery, I can face the eternity. But none of it matters if I don't have you.
YOU ARE READING
Someone Else's Angel
PoetryA collection of thoughts and opinions of an ordinary people.
