What do you see
under there
little ones?
Is it
your own country,
full of
places to rest
and
mountains to climb?
Or a
cave full of
warmth and
darkness,
a place of
solace?
You answer my calls,
but
you are so far under
that I can't understand.
Maybe,
I will never understand.
Little ones, please
don't forget
to come home,
please,
don't forget
me.
YOU ARE READING
My Voice
PoetryPoems meant to express things I can't always bring myself to say, emotions that run so deep in my veins, and thoughts that hang over my head. I hope you can enjoy this, or find something that makes you feel less alone at the very least. Many of thes...
