Like it's winter
But called summer
Like it's blue
But paints things red
This isn't like the sea
And the end
Is not what we see
Folded waves
Muzzy ways
Bummers of the life
Killing the bright days
It felt blue but that's not true
It is cold
And so are you
Summer is ending
But that's not what we see
Ices were melting
But you won't, just like me
This isn't like the sea
Nothing's actually what we see
YOU ARE READING
Withering Dreams
Poetry"But who's the tangled one in the bubble? " -Not just me, we're all confined by the walls we build ourselves. And those who suddenly find their elves in another world... maybe an unknown world Everybody who they feel something vague And every elf...
