My heart is being mended by it,
That thing you hold, what is it?
It's making me feel whole,
And happy,
And hopeful,
And meaningful.
I feel like I have a reason to go on,
So tell me, what is it?
What is in your hand that can fix the illness that's spread through my body with roots growing deep down inside the rock of my heart?
.
.
.
Love?
YOU ARE READING
And I'm Gone
PoesíaRandom poems I wrote that involve my feelings. Most is kind of sad to me in the least. Enjoy :)
