I keep writing prequels and prologues.
On and on,
Pages upon pages,
Piling up around me.
Because I'm scared.
I'm afraid to start the story
From the beginning to the end,
'Cause I don't know
If the ending will
Be happy,
Or bitter.
And there's always a chance
It'll be lonely.
Like I am right now,
Except worse.
'Cause by then,
I would've gotten a whiff of bliss.
A taste of warm honey.
So another
Prequel goes by.
Another prologue is written,
Filling up the space in my mind.
And I let it continue,
'Cause I'm a coward, love.
A stupid
Frost ridden
Weakling.
But, I wouldn't mind
If you'd write the story
For me.
YOU ARE READING
A Touch of Wonder
PoetryA book of poetry filled with thoughts, experiences, and emotions. "As I walk down the slippery street, My face streaming with tears, The sadness can barely be sustained. But you suddenly kiss away my fears, My dear umbrella in the rain."
