What was home
Breaths like mint
Eyes like earth
Smile like yours
Heart like mine
What became of it
Shards of glass
Broken dreams
Fragile people
Bloodshot looks
What should have been
Sweet lullabies
Lovely nights
Flower dews
New sunrise
YOU ARE READING
Less Than A Century
PoetryA collection of words I decided to call poetry. It takes only one To break To fix To live To die for To strive To be cruel To finally break To complete A Century
