I remember watching that brown tail wag, ever since before my feet could touch the ground,
In you my love is found.
A love not often spoken about.
You lay in front of the fire.
Staring at me as if I'm a great spire. I always feared my eyes would be full of tears when I said goodbye,
But I guess it just isn't my style to cry,
Don't get me wrong
I do miss watching that brown tail wag since before my feet could touch the ground
YOU ARE READING
poetry?
PoetryI started writing I guess, poetry? Well, either way I seem to enjoy it so I thought I'd post a few since I haven't been active in a while, I hope you enjoy.
