73

19 6 0
                                    

of shooting
stars,
light up the
sky,
eyes were
drowning
into,
wish we
could catch
just one,
make this
little boy's
whispers
be heard;
–friends,
friends,
friends,
i wish
for
someone
to be my
friend.

—dream catchers.

echoes | poetry | wattys2018Where stories live. Discover now