I dreamed
I cried
I sobbed
at night.
Then I woke up
and felt my
eyes bathed
with truth.
That morning's light
landed upon
the curtains' curves.
It slaps me hard
too hard to accept
that it is real.
Wish all is
Just...
Just...
Just a dream.
YOU ARE READING
The Breathing Poems
PoetryWhen I cannot speak, I cannot be mad, when I cannot share the happiness, all I have to do is to write the breathing poems.
