Looking at me, years from now, how would you feel?
Would you be proud? Or would you be sad?
Would you regret losing the time we could've had together?
Would you be happy with the way I'd grown? Or would you miss my childlike gaze?
My eyes, would you love their exuding confidence? Or would you miss ignoring the way they used to look at you, piercingly soft?
Would you smile back, crinkling your eyes?
Would thinking of me invoke a smile?
Would you finally realise that nothing is amaranthine?
Nothing is amaranthine, you'd wonder, except our love.
YOU ARE READING
A Mind Full Of Thoughts
PoesíaAfter mindlessly attempting to write the usual stories, my brain has resorted to muses and poems. Read on to watch my brain pour over your phone screen like a toppling tea cup brimming with tea. A Mind Full Of Thoughts
