If I write you a verse
Would you fall in love with me again
And make the clock reverse?
Back then I got mad
Piled up rocks and painted over
All that was sad
I wrote and I write
Hoping I could turn this long dark winter
Into warm daylight
I climbed so high to build a wall
But in the end
It was me who took the fall
YOU ARE READING
Two Years Late
PoetryA collection of moments where rhyming was necessary. Short, simple poetry; yet, those who relate - too many. Weird titles for humor, but that doesn't make the poem experience less painful. Those titles are painful to me though. You'll see.
