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Poesie

I​ ​write​ ​my​ ​poems​ ​when​ ​I'm​ ​bored, Because​ ​I​ ​can't​ ​say​ ​what​ ​I​ ​feel​ ​without​ ​being​ ​forward, I​ ​read​ ​all​ ​night, And​ ​sleep​ ​all​ ​day, Just​ ​to​ ​keep​ ​you​ ​all​ ​away, I'm​ ​sick​ ​and​ ​tired, Of​ ​being​ ​w...

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Romanticism of Bleakness.

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Snow-dust blankets, 

                              
icy roads,

                              
hot cocoa mornings,

                              
school-day colds,

                              
tea filled evenings,

                              
busy days,

                              
Why did summer fade away?
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